Bloodbath
by NightingaleLost
Summary: It was just supposed to be a nice little camping trip. That's all. But it went so wrong, so, so fast. Kenny P.O.V.
1. Prologue: All Our Fault

Yay!, new story!!! Woo!! Anyway, this is a little different than what I usually do...lots more blood and angst, but whatever. Umm..sorry it's so short, don't worry, they'll get longer.

**Disclaimer: Me no ownie South Park.**

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**Prologue  
All Our Fault**

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*****

The door opened and a man stepped into the silent room. He was large and fat, with a receding hairline and bloodshot eyes, carrying a thin folder in his meaty paws.

The room's only other occupant, an adolescent boy of about 17, turned his head to look at him. The boy was dressed in an orange parka, ragged and torn, jeans in the same state, slumped down in a chair in front of a table angrily. His messy dirty blonde hair fell over his face, but was unable to hide his narrowed eyes, cobalt blue and hard in frustration as they glared at the man.

The man dd not seem to notice, making his slow way to a chair in front of the boy, putting the table between them. He flicked open the folder, scanning its contents wearily, as if he had done this a million times. The boy drummed his fingers on the tabletop irritably, clearly impatient to get this over with. He gritted his teeth, but the man paid him no heed, still looking at the file. When it seemed like the boy could take it no more, the man sighed, laying the file down and leaning back in his chair. He stared at the boy with dulled, bored eyes.

"So..." he began. "Says here you're Kenneth McCormick?"

"Kenny."

"Alright then, Kenny." The man glanced at the file. "You've got a pretty interesting talent there, kiddo."

Kenny's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"You die...then come back to life in a day or two." The man elaborated. "Seems like a pretty special gift to me."

Kenny scowled. "More like a fucking _curse_ to me."

The man leaned forward, seemingly interested. "And why's that?"

"No one gives a flying fuck when I die." Kenny growled. "It's always, 'Oh, Kenny'll just come back later!!' Doesn't stop it from hurting! They don't know what it's like!"

"Hmmm, really?" The man's eyes were already glazing over from boredom.

"Hell yeah!! So what if I die all the time?! Someone should at least care! They could give me a freakin' funeral or something!! All I have is an unmarked grave at home. They don't even bother making them separate now. They just bury me in one and wait for me to dig myself up again. Fucking bitches."

"And this makes you angry?" The man asked, leaning back again.

"No shit, Sherlock." Kenny said sarcastically. The man glanced at him, his eyes sharp as flint, suddenly changing from the disinterest they so recently possessed.

"Angry enough to get some payback? Kill some people?"

Kenny reeled back, eyes wide. "Are you fucking nuts?! No!! After all I've been through, you think I want that to happen to anybody?! I'm a fucking sex addict, not a murderer!!"

The man raised an eyebrow but let it pass.

"We've cross referenced your story with the other witnesses and trailed the scene, but...we're not finding any sign of your..._friend_."

"It was him! Him, I'm telling you!!" Kenny slapped the table with his palms. "I know he's out there! And no duh they didn't see him, everybody came when they were all already dead!!"

"Uh huh..."

"You've gotta believe me!" Kenny pleaded.

"Well, alright. Tell me what happened. What made your 'friend' kill everybody?" The man was surprised to see a great sadness descend on the boy, extinguishing the anger in his blue eyes. Kenny looked down, his voice tinged with guilt and bitter sadness.

"It was all our fault..."

_It was all our fault he did this...all our own damn fault.

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_

**A/N:** Anyway, just a little side note...this song was inspired by something by Ludo. If you can figure out what it is, review and tell me, and I will give you a present. Like, seriously, you will get to dictate some of the things I need to put in here. Keep reading please!!


	2. Chapter One: Beer, Blondes and Billy Joe

Back with another one! Dude, you have no idea how hard this shit is. To tell you honestly, I'm thinking of dropping everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Like, no Dip sequel, no Tension, no Bloodbath, _nothing_. I'm getting sick of all of this. Like, I'm so freakin' lazy. I'm even gonna drop Lovestolen on FP. I just wanna work on my new original. And typing is such a fucking hassle, man.

But anyway, another chapter before I abandon shit. (Yawn) I'm sleepy. Thanks to all of you who reviewed last chapter, really appreciate it. Sorry for any misspellings, I'm really lazy right now.

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.**

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**Chapter One  
Beer, Blondes and Billy Joe**

*****

***  
**

A loud beeping woke him up, invading his dreams and dragging him to awareness.

"Urghhh..." Kenny rolled over on messy sheets, slapping his hand on the rickety table near his bed, roaming around blindly until he struck the alarm clock. Hitting the snooze button on it, he expected it to shut up. Instead, it ignored him, defying his command and beeping anyway.

"Stupid piece of shit!" Kenny grabbed it, throwing it against the far wall. He heard a loud thunk, and all was silent again. He sighed, relaxing on his covers.

Then his phone rang.

"Argh!" He held the pillow over his head, trying to block out the sounds of the incessant ringing, but to no avail. Giving up, he took the phone from the table, flipping it open.

"Yeah?"

"Ay, Kenny! Wake your po' ass up!" Cartman's voice came over the speaker, loud and grating. Kenny groaned.

"Man, fuck you, I'm sleeping."

"Fuck _you_!! I've been planning this shit for months, now get your fucking ass up and pack 'fore I torch your fucking shack!" Cartman laughed. "Hey, don't forget the booze, a'right?"

"Yeah, yeah...I'll meet you later. Don't leave without me, fatass. Remember, no me, no beer." Kenny grinned into his pillow. Cartman snorted.

"Whatever. Talk t'you later, I gotta break up these faggots 'fore they start makin' out or something."

In the background Kenny could hear a muffled, '_Hey!_' and a '_Dude, what the fuck?!_'. Kenny chuckled.

"Alright, alright, bye."

Kenny hung up, sitting up on his bed. He yawned, stretching. Cartman had been talking about some stupid camping trip or something for the past two months, and now that it was summer vacation, the fat boy planned to take full advantage of that. He had even roped in some other people besides their usual group: Clyde, Token (who was renting Cartman his family's cabin in the woods), Craig and Tweek. Throw in some beer and it could almost be a party.

It was bound to be a week of drunken fun.

Kenny leapt out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom. A quick shower and change later and he was rummaging in his closet, pulling out a small duffel bag and throwing some clothes inside. Just a couple of changes, nothing special, hell, no one gave a fuck what he looked like anyway. He tossed in his pot stash, grinning. Cartman and Craig were gonna bring their own, but they didn't expect Kenny to bring his too. They'd all dip in theirs until it was out, and then he'd bring out his own. Those bitches would be _crawling_ over each other to get it. Nothing like a bit of sadistic power to liven up his day.

"Alright, let's get this party started!!" He bounced up, walking out to the living room. He waved goodbye to his mother, who was sitting on the couch, staring at their staticky television.

"Bye, ma. I'm leaving now."

She looked at him, confused. "Where're you goin', Kenny?"

"To fatass' camping trip. Remember, I told you I was going?"

She thought a moment. "Oh yeah...well, have fun. Bring us back a possum or two."

"...uh, right. See ya." Kenny walked out of the house, the duffel bag slung carelessly over his shoulder.

Soon he reached Cartman's house, where a commotion was taking place. The large van Cartman had somehow acquired was sitting in the driveway, and Cartman stood next to it, in a heated discussion with his mother. Stan and Kyle were loading up their bags in the van, and Clyde was smoking a cigarette on Cartman's front porch.

"Fuck no!" Cartman was yelling. "I'm not taking that fucking faggot! Y'all can suck my balls!"

"But, poopiekins, they really want you to take him along!" His mother soothed.

"Fuck it, this is _my_ trip, _my_ money, _my_ van, and I don't want no pussy ass taggin' along!" The fatboy fumed. His mother sighed.

"They'll give you five hundred dollars to take him."

Cartman opened his mouth to protest, then shut it, silently raging. "Fucking son of a bitch." He cursed. "Dammit, alright! But that bitch better not get in my way. And I want the money in cash!"

Mrs. Cartman beamed, going back into the house. Kenny, who had already thrown his bag in the van by this time, looked at Stan. "What's eating fatass now?"

Stan shrugged. "Butters' parents called. They wanna dump Butters on him for the trip or something."

Kenny frowned. Butters? He hadn't talked to him in a while. Hell, who was he kidding, he never talked to the lonely guy. "Why?"

"I dunno. His parents are bitches anyway." Stan got up to join Kyle in the van, who was studying the map intently, trying to memorize their route. Kenny walked over to Cartman, who was now on the phone.

"Yeah, need you to make another stop...no, fucktard, it's just this." Cartman was saying. "Naw, just go pick up Butters...yes, he's coming...fuck it, I don't _want_ him to come, I'm getting fucking _paid_ to bring his faggot ass!...whatever....just bring him." He hung up, and Kenny patted his shoulder.

"Calm down man, at least it ain't Pip or something."

Cartman snorted. "I wouldn't bring that Frenchie fag for a million bucks." He paused. "Well, maybe for a million."

Kenny laughed and Cartman gestured toward the van. "You got all the booze in?"

"No, you fucking kidding? How the hell am I supposed to carry all we need from my house to yours? Damn, fatty, grow a brain or something."

"Fuck off, white trash. Where is it then?" Cartman demanded. Kenny grinned slyly. "Oh, it's somewhere. We have to drive to it first."

"Better be damn good."

* * *

They set off once everyone arrived, Token bringing Craig, Tweek and Butters. The 'Hello Kitty'-loving blonde looked like he had just tumbled out of bed, his hair sticking up all over the place, clothes rumpled and a baby blue backpack clutched in tight hands. He looked utterly confused as to why he was here, and Kenny would have bet money that his parents had just tossed him out without any explanation when Token had come by to pick him up.

Cartman was driving, Token had called shotgun, Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Stan and Kyle were practically sitting on each other in the middle seats, and Kenny was shoved in the back seats with Butters, along with all the bags everyone had brought, because Cartman wanted to save room in the very back for all the alcohol that Kenny had promised.

Kenny glanced at Butters, who was slumped in his seat, a wary look on his face. Cartman had some music blaring, so Kenny was certain that their conversation wouldn't be heard. He leaned toward the smaller blonde.

"Hey, Butters."

The boy looked up at him, clearly forcing a smile on his face. "Heya, Kenny."

"Why'd you agree to come? You don't look like you want to be here at all."

Butters frowned. "I'ah don't know, really. My dad jus' told me t'pack some stuff and go with Token. And what could I'ah say? I didn't wanna get in trouble or nuthin'."

"That doesn't seem very nice." Kenny remarked.

The other sighed. "I'ah know. He's not very happy with me right now. He says tha' when I'ah turn eighteen, he's gonna kick me out so I'ah can find my own job an' place an' be a man."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Well, how old are you now?"

Butters glared at him. "I'ah'm sev'nteen, jus' like you! We went to th' same school since we were little, how do you _not_ know?"

"Oh." Kenny flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry."

Butters slumped down further, muttering, "I'ah jus' wanted to sleep in today..."

Suddenly Cartman yelled from the front over the music. "Ay, Kenny! Where's the beer at, po' boy?!"

Kenny leaned forward in his seat, gripping the headrest of the seat in front of his, taking note of their surroundings and trying to be heard over the music. "Take a right over here!!"

"What?!"

"A right!!!"

"_What's alright??"_

_ "Take a fucking right!!!!"_

Cartman yanked on the steering wheel before he missed the turn, sending everyone flying to the left. Everyone yelled, piling up on the window side. Kenny fell on Butters and bags fell over them both.

"_Gah!! _We're all gonna die!!!" Tweek shrieked.

"What the fuck, fatass?!" Kyle shouted.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" Cartman yelled. "I'm following the fucking whore! Why the fuck are you all yelling at _me_?!?"

"'Cuz you're driving, retard!!" Clyde barked.

"All of you, _shut up_!!!" Craig thundered. Everything was silent. Craig didn't talk much, so his authoritative command made all of them fall silent. Craig turned back to Kenny, who was trying to extricate himself from the bags and Butters, the smaller boy holding his nose from where Kenny's body had smacked into his face. "Hey, where's the shit?"

"Hold up, wait. Park over here." Kenny said. Cartman raised an eyebrow. They had arrived at a rundown gas station, old and somewhat abandoned.

"Son of a bitch, what the hell is this?"

"Just park, you fat tub of lard!!"

Cartman growled, but parked anyway. Kenny climbed out over the seats, Tweek shrieking again as Kenny tried to avoid hitting him. Stan yelled as Kenny elbowed him in the face, and Kyle pushed him onto Clyde as Kenny accidentally hit his side.

"Fuck it, stop hitting me!!" Kenny howled, wriggling his hips to try to get over. This only earned him a boot to the behind as Butters kicked him and sent him to the floor. Everyone laughed as Kenny opened the door, stumbling outside and rubbing his butt.

"Dammit, be careful with the merchandise. Girls don't want to see my ass bruised, it lowers the price." He muttered.

"Not that it was very high in the first place." Token quipped, causing everyone to laugh harder. Kenny glared at him, then pointed at them.

"Come on, everyone get out."

"What?!" Cartman scowled.

"Just get out." Kenny started walking away and Cartman turned off the van, everyone clambering out. Kenny lead them to the front of the gas station, where an old redneck sat, smoking a pipe.

"Hey, Billy Joe!" Kenny greeted him. "Lemme have the key."

Billy Joe smiled, tossing him a silver key from his pocket. "I'll be waitin' for you next week."

"Alright." Kenny chuckled, leading the others around back. Token looked back. "Jesus, Kenny, you don't actually sleep with that geezer, do you?"

Kenny snorted. "No, you fucktard. Billy's old, he just wants somebody to talk to. I work here on weekends."

"What the hell does he pay you with?" Cartman sneered. "This place is freakin' falling apart!"

Kenny smiled slyly. "He pays me with _this._" He held up the key. All curious glances were stopped as they reached a small warehouse. Kenny fitted the key to the door and opened it, letting out a cold wave of air. Everyone, even Butters, gasped.

"Jesus Christ monkey balls..." Cartman breathed reverently.

The walls were lined with freezers or liquor, from beer to whiskey, tequila, vodka, rum, wine, champagne, you name it and it was there. Kenny smirked. "Billy Joe may not look like much, but he's known with a lot of the businesses around. Especially the alcohol ones." He gestured grandly inside.

"Gentlemen, pick your poison."

* * *

**A/N:** Alright, that's it. Probably not gonna do anything else for a while. Might put up next chap. of Tension, mainly because I left y'all on such a cliffhanger. And no one tried to guess which Ludo song this is based on! Shame on y'all. If anyone can guess it, I swear to God, I will not stop this story until it's completely finished. I will continue it above everything else.

But you guys won't even try anyway, so what's the point? Rawr to you.


	3. Chapter Two:Vodka, Shotgunning and Trees

Yes, I'm back. For those of you who are simultaneously reading Tension, you know that I have once again received inspiration!! WOOT!! XDDDD Anyway, more stuff!!! Yay! here, things start to get interesting!! Hey, RisaShootingStar (God, I love that kid) has made me fanart! HAHAHA!! FIRST FANART FOR THIS STORY!!! I'm goooooooooood 3 Check it out, yo.

http://risashootingstar (dot) deviantart (dot) com/art/SPFanart-Bloodbath-157164986

And no, I've never gotten drunk, (although I've taken a drop of tequila and almost thrown up cuz it was horrible) and I've never done any type of drugs. So, all of this is kinda all from imagination, but Jessie tells me that shotgunning work this way, so IDK. Sorry if my descriptions are weird or something.

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own South Park. Pooh to you. XP**

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Chapter Two  
Vodka, Shotgunning and Trees  
**

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"Oh my God, watch out for that car!!"

"Slow down, dipshit!"

"Swerve!! Swerve!!"

"_Shut the fuck up_!!!" Cartman howled, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The rain poured down outside in sheets, and the smoke inside the van made everything a lot more harder to see. The 'party' had started about an hour ago after they had loaded up every single bottle of liquor the van could carry, and Kenny had taken a secret stash of weed from the warehouse. More music was blaring, almost everybody was stoned, and nobody could think. Craig and Tweek had taken Kenny and Butters' places in the back seats, doing God-knows-what, Kyle, Clyde and Token were leaning forward and yelling at Cartman's driving skills, Stan was passed out in his spot, and Butters was holding his hands over his ears, trying to find a quiet place. Kenny watched it all, calmly puffing away at a joint. He glanced at Butters, slumped against the window.

"Not enjoying yourself?"

The smaller blonde pulled away his hands, gazing up at Kenny in confusion. Kenny repeated the question and Butters shook his head.

"It's really loud in here." He sighed. "Th' guys don't even like me or nuthin'. I'ah don't see why Eric even brought me here."

"Oh." Kenny felt kinda bad for him. Hell, he himself had it pretty bad, but at least he had people he could hang out with and call friends. Butters had always been the odd man out in everything they did. Kenny himself didn't really talk to Butter, but damn, that had to suck. He decided not to tell him that his parents had paid Cartman to bring him along for the trip. That would just be cruel. He shrugged instead.

"Eh, fatass is a stupid retard. His fat is clogging up his tiny brain. But come on, don't you think you're gonna have fun or anything?"

Butters rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Kenny? I'ah betcha ten bucks th' other guys are gonna be rippin' on me by th' second day."

Kenny frowned. Now, he knew he didn't really have the right to think this, but Butters was different. What had happened to the peppy, bouncy kid from third grade? Butters sighed, reaching under the seat to pull out a bottle of vodka. Kenny's eyes widened.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!! What're you gonna do with that?!"

Butters sighed. "I'ah'm gonna do what everyone else is doin' and drink myself stupid. Then maybe I'ah'll go t'sleep."

"Dude, we're smoking, not drinking, and do you even know what that is?"

Butters looked at it, reading the label. "Uh...vodka?"

Kenny shook his head, laughing. "Man, have you ever even drunk anything before?"

"No. My dad says drinkin' will make me retarded an' give me super-AIDS." Butters scowled. "But he ain't here now, an' I'ah don't care."

Kenny chuckled. "Look, I appreciate your rebel attitude, but you're not cut out for that stuff. Vodka is pretty much pure alcohol; you're not gonna pass out, you're gonna throw up all over Cartman's van and he'll toss you out. Here," he gently pried the bottle away from him, twisting the cap until the seal broke. He poured the smallest amount in the cap, offering it to Butters, continuing, "You can try it and see if you like it."

Butters glanced at him then took it warily, scrunching up his nose in a sort of bunny-pout as he took in the strong smell. Then he tipped it back into his mouth, drinking it.

Immediately his body spasmed, eyes widening as he gagged, coughing and spitting. Kenny pounded his back a a couple of times until Butters calmed down, his face slightly green.

"It's disgusting!!" He said, wiping his tongue on his sleeve. Kenny laughed, taking a drink from the bottle. He winced as it burned his throat, devouring his tongue. "_Mnnn_, son of a bitch, that burns."

Butters looked at him incredulously. Kenny smiled at his expression, capping the bottle again and stuffing it under the seat. "Killed myself drinking the shit a couple of times." Kenny said dreamily. "Ah, good times, good times."

He turned to Butters again. "You ever shotgunned before?"

"What's that?"

Kenny grinned. "You said you wanted to go to sleep?"

"...yeah."

"Alright." Kenny held up the joint. "This little baby will send you into la-la land where you can dream of pretty rainbows and jumping ponies. But we have to do it different, 'cuz you're a first-timer, right?"

Butters blushed. "So what if I'ah've never done pot before?"

"Nothin', nothin'." Kenny soothed him. "All I'm saying is you can't just puff it straight. We gotta do it a little differently. You wanna give it a try?"

Butters looked at the joint warily. "Well, I'ah dunno, but...well, I'ah'm gonna have fun this week, even if I'ah haveta get high to do it, boy howdy!"

"That's the spirit!!" Kenny laughed uproariously. Damn, this kid was fun to talk to! He pulled himself a little closer, and Butters' eyes widened in apprehension.

"Alright now, stay calm, okay? When I breath out, you breathe in. Got it?"

"Wait, wha?"

But Kenny was already taking a deep drag of his drug, holding the smoke in his lungs. He eaned forward until their lips were almost touching, then made his hands form a sort of barrier around their lips. Kenny blew out the smoke, gently, and there was a tiny pause before the startled Butters remembered his instructions and breathed in. Kenny blew it all out, then pulled back, Butters coughing a little.

"You good?"

Butters nodded, trying to keep the smoke inside like Kenny had done. After a moment he let it out to join the rest of the haze in the van. He frowned.

"It's...it's warm...an' tickly."

The smaller boy held out a hand. "Lemme try by m'self now."

Kenny chuckled. "I don't think so. Even I had to have a bit of help, first time I did it. If you smoke this now, you'll choke."

Butters scowled. "I'ah will not."

Kenny shrugged, handing him the joint. Butters put it to his lips, taking in a hasty puff, way too fast for him. He _did_ choke, dropping the joint and coughing madly. Kenny tossed the used drug out of the window before turning back to Butters, who was still trying to get his breath back.

"Next time, listen to me, a'right?"

Butters nodded hurriedly, still coughing. He bent over, his face turning red, then purple.

"Okay, okay, come on." Kenny sat him up and tilted his chin, snapping his fingers above his head. "Birdie, birdie, look at the birdie! Birdie's calling you!"

Butters focused on Kenny's fingers, head still tilted back, and his coughing slowed, then stopped. Kenny smiled and let him go, snatching the pot baggie from the sleeping Stan's grasp, taking a thin paper and quickly rolling another one. He lit it up, then handed it to Butters, who looked a bit frightened at being asked to try again so soon. Kenny patted his back.

"Okay, Mr. Independent, seeing as you want it my way, let's try yours again. This time, though, don't suck the shit down, take it slow. Like you're breathing in."

The other hesitantly brought it to his lips again, taking a slow, deep puff. This time he managed it, holding in the smoke before breathing out.

"Well?"

"It's not as warm...but it's really good."

Kenny chuckled. "Good, good."

They passed the joint between them for a while, and sure enough, Butters passed out, slumped against Kenny. The taller blonde smiled. Butters was a feisty kid, and Kenny wasn't sure he had changed, but he liked it. Or maybe he had always been this way, but no one had ever given him the chance to show it. Either way, Butters wasn't the loser everyone made him out to be.

"No! Keep on the fucking road, you fat fuck!"

Kyle's angry yell brought Kenny's attention back to the front, to where the redhead was yelling at Cartman.

"Fuck you, Kyle! I take whatever road I want! And it's a fucking shortcut!! The highway takes a huge turn; this cuts through it. I'm saving us time!!"

"It's not even on the map, you stupid tub of lard!!" Kyle howled.

"Ay! Don't call me fat, you fucking Jew!!" Cartman screamed.

"You _are_ fat!" Clyde shot. "And how the fuck do you know it's a real shortcut?!"

"My mom told me it was! Now shut the fuck up and let me drive!!"

"_HEY!!!_" Kenny's yell brought them them all to silence. Behind him, Craig and Tweek's tousled heads popped out to look curiously. "Dude! Seriously! What the hell are y'all arguing about _now_?!"

Token sighed. "Kyle and Clyde want to follow the map, but Cartman wants to take some shortcut that's coming up."

"Well, what do _you_ want? You're renting fatass the cabin, aren't you?" Kenny reasoned.

"Ay! I ain't fat, white trash!"

"Fuck off, I'm askin' Token!!" Kenny snapped. Cartman subsided into angry mutterings, and the blonde motioned for Token to continue. The black boy thought.

"Dude, I don't give a crap. I'm tired, I'm stoned, I just wanna get there." He said finally. "Just take the damn shortcut."

"Yes!!" Cartman crowed triumphantly, while Kyle and Clyde groaned simultaneously.

"Fatass here's gonna get us all killed." Kyle muttered. Kenny just grinned.

"Don't worry. If you're lucky, you'll be high as a kite when it happens."

Kyle snorted. "Whatever. Hand me that joint, will you?"

* * *

About thirty minutes later, Cartman turned from the highway into a small, worn road, peering through the rapidly falling night, which was accompanied by more rain. And the complaining started.

"You can barely see in here!!" Kyle whined.

"What if you hit a tree?" Clyde asked. Tweek shrieked from the back, and Kenny heard Craig curse.

"_Gah!_ W-what?! We're g-gonna -_ngh_- hit a tree?!"

"We're not gonna hit a tree, you fucking twitchy faggot!! Go back to fucking your boyfriend!!" Cartman yelled.

Kenny was the only one who heard Craig murmur softly, "He's right y'know. Now, where were we?" He shook his head. That was quite possibly the stupidest suggestion Cartman could have made. He was definitely gonna have to clean this van when they got back. They drove on for a while longer, heading deeper, when suddenly the van gave a huge jolt and Cartman yelled out,

"What the fuck?! Where's the road!?"

"_What?!_" Kyle screamed. "Whad'ya mean, '_where's the road_'?!?!"

"I don't fucking know! I think I missed a curve or something!!"

Then they hit a patch of slippery mud and the tires slipped. Everyone screamed as the van skidded, Cartman desperately trying to get it straight again, Stan and Butters waking up in panicked confusion. Tweek screamed and pointed.

"_Watch out for the tree!!!_"

It loomed out of nowhere, a massive trunk in the middle of the night. Cartman slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The plowed into it and everyone was wrenched forward. There was a great screech of metal and shattering of glass, Kenny was flung forward and shot out of the windshield, then he hit the tree and died as his neck snapped.

* * *

**A/N:** I want to personally thank an anonymous reviewer (who called herself lauren) who actually tried to guess the song!!! She guessed 'Horror of Our Love', but sadly, that's not it...sowwy. But she tried, and let me say this now, I dedicate this entire story to three people: RisaShootingStar, who gave me fanart, EpicInTheLibrary, who said she would try, and my dear, dear lauren, who is plain amazing. I love you all!!!


	4. Chapter Three:Injuries, Secrets and Lies

Does this answer your question, Cat Omalley? xDDD YES, I AM BACK!

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.**

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**Chapter Three  
Injuries, Secrets and Lies**

Kenny ran through the re-birth process back in Hell, waving a hurried 'hello' to Satan as he skipped the large line of people already waiting. Holy fucking Christ, what had happened to his friends? They hadn't come with him, so they must still be alive, but what if they were hurt and needed help?

He woke up in an awkward position on the crumpled hood of the van, and he groaned, snapping his neck back into place. There we go; that was much better. Jumping off of the hood, he gazed around anxiously, his eyes catching Tweek and Craig pulling a moaning Stan out of the vehicle.

"Hey, you guys alright?" He called out. Craig turned to him as they lay Stan down.

"Oh hey, Kenny, you're back. Yeah, most of the bags fell on us when we were back there; guess they must have protected us or something."

Tweek whimpered. "Sweet Jesus, th-that was -_ngh_- th-the scariest moment in my l-life!"

Craig patted his hair soothingly, then looked down worriedly at Stan, who was letting out pained half-cries. "He's been doing that for a while, I don't know what's wrong with him."

Kenny quickly approached them, and quickly spotted the problem. "Look, his shoulder's dislocated. Come on, hold him down, will you? It's probably already starting to heal wrong." Craig gripped him tightly as Kenny grabbed Stan's arm, giving it a hard pull. Stan screamed as it popped back into place, then passed out. Kenny winced.

"Damn, that's gotta hurt."

A sudden groan caught their attention, and they turned to see Kyle tumble out of the van, falling flat on his face. Tweek ran to help him while Craig and Kenny went back to the other still inside. Clyde and Token were taken out, Token sporting a large burn on one side of his face from the airbag. Cartman took both of them to tug out, and but he had managed to put up his arm in time, protecting his face from similar injuries. Tweek's yell brought their attention back to him.

"Guys! _Ngh, gah!_ I th-think Kyle needs s-some -_augh_- h-help!"

Craig and Kenny ran to him, and saw Tweek fidgeting anxiously over a very pale Kyle, who was bleeding from a large gash on his head. Kenny kneeled by him.

"Kyle! Hey, Kyle, come on buddy, talk to me, stay awake alright?"

Kyle slowly opened his eyes, the green irises cloudy and glazed. "K...Kenny?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here."

"...w-where's...Stan?"

Kenny chuckled at the obvious question. "He's fine, he's over there. Please tell me your genius brain remembered to bring a first-aid kit or something."

Kyle smiled wanly. "In...in my...bag..."

Kenny shot over to the van, searching for Kyle's bright green bag, from where he pulled out a classically colored red first-aid kit. As he pulled it out, his mind nagged at him to remember something. Ignoring it, he rushed back to Kyle, where Craig took the kit from his hands and proceeded to clean and dress Kyle's wounds. Kenny stared. Damn, that looked almost professional; where did Craig learn to do _that_? Craig caught his gaze, shrugging.

"Tweek gets hurt sometimes. I have to fix him up."

Kenny nodded knowingly. Tweek was lucky he had Craig to watch over him, the little blonde would probably get hurt a lot more if he wasn't there. Kenny frowned as a different flash of blonde colored his mind, and he froze in realization. Oh shit, Butters!

He ran back to the van, cursing himself. The kid had already been through so much, but dammit, how could he be forgotten like that? Tossing bags out of the way, he found Butters, slumped forward. The guy had been the only one wearing a seatbelt, and he looked relatively unscathed. Sighing in relief, Kenny unbuckled him, bringing him out carefully. Craig glanced over to him, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Damn, I forgot all about him."

"Yeah, me too." Kenny admitted. "Shit, I feel bad." Butters moaned softly, and the other two crowded close. Sky blue eyes fluttered and opened, and he tried to sit up. However, the little blonde froze, gasping and holding his chest.

"_Owww!_"

"Butters? What's wrong?" Kenny asked. Butters only whimpered, so Craig lifted his shirt. A giant bruise stretched diagonally across his chest, dark and purple. Kenny winced. Ouch, that had to hurt.

"Well, that's one drawback to using a seatbelt." He half-joked, helping Craig lay Butters lie down on the dirty ground again. Craig went back to Tweek as the twitchy blonde started screaming about there being no coffee, and Kenny was left to sit with Butters. The bruised boy looked up at him.

"I'ah'm...I'ah'm sorry you had t'die." He panted out. Kenny looked at him, startled. Seriously? He was...sorry?

"Why?"

Butters almost glared at him. "'Cuz you were nice t'me yest'rday. And it's horrible y'have to die all th' time."

"Oh." Kenny was saying that a lot lately. But, damn, Butters made it seem as if that was the only possible reason a sane person would say. He made it seem so obvious. But it wasn't! He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Well, no one really cares about that, y'know? Just kinda...caught me off guard or whatever."

Butters' expression melted, a strange one replacing it. Kenny didn't know what it was, only that it reminded him extremely of pity. He flushed, protesting almost defiantly. "It's not like I'm complaining! Hell, I probably wouldn't care either if it wasn't me! I always come back, right?" He hesitated. "I ain't lookin' for pity or anything." Kenny finished lamely.

Butters looked at him a little more, then smiled again, this time a clear understanding. Kenny supposed that, in a way, Butters _did_ understand. His parents were crap, he was always left out, but he wasn't looking for pity either. Kenny found himself smiling back. Yeah, Butters really was an alright guy.

* * *

It was a long hour before everyone was awake and aware, and Cartman was fuming when he saw his van. He stood near the hood, examining it with a twisted expression of anger and depression. Kyle, when he managed to get up and shake off a worried Stan, limped back into the woods from where they had come from, and Stan took over.

"Alright guys, it's great we're all alive and breathing, but we need to do something now." He started, holding his arm gingerly.

"What _can_ we do?" Clyde whined, exposing the front tooth he had badly chipped in the crash. Kenny had to stop himself from laughing irrationally as he saw it again. "We're stranded here! Forever!"

"GAH! Oh God, f-forever?" Tweek shrieked. "I can't -_ngh_- d-do forever! Sweet Jesus, we're a-all gonna _die_!"

"Shut up! No one's gonna die." Craig snapped. He looked at Stan. "So what's the plan?"

Stan pointed backwards. "Kyle's gone off to find the road. Someone can follow it back to the highway and get help, right? The rest of us will stay put until help comes." He looked at Tweek pointedly. "No one is going to die, alright?"

Tweek nodded. Token spoke up. "What about food? Whoever's gonna go on the road is probably gonna be gone for an entire day, and even longer to get the police and everything here. We're gonna get pretty hungry."

Cartman called from the van. "I already got that covered, you ungrateful dickfucks!"

Everyone went over to him—Kenny helping up Butters, who was still aching from his bruise—watching as Cartman pulled cases and bottles of booze out, laying them down carefully on the ground. Once the back was empty, he felt around the floor, hooking his fingers under something. He pulled it away, revealing a large hidden compartment stuffed with chips, beef jerky, candy, any and every type of junk food you could possibly think of.

"Holy crap!" Kenny exclaimed. Cartman looked smug. Token frowned.

"Okay, so we won't starve, but what about water? We can't just drink beer and shit, we'd all die of alcohol poisoning."

Tweek shrieked at the thought, but Cartman waved it away. "Still got it covered. Got a couple of water gallons under the seats, and some bottles in the glove compartment."

Stan laughed. "Damn, Cartman, you thought of everything, didn't you?"

Cartman puffed up smugly. "Can't get in the way of me and my food, bitches." He chuckled. "Hell, I feel sorry for the person going."

"Why?" Clyde asked.

"'Cuz we can drink and smoke and party all we want while we wait, but the dumbass who's going can't do that." The fatass said. "They have to remain completely _sober_ if they want to find the highway."

Token laughed. "Shit, hell if I'm going now. Someone else can go, but counts me out!"

There was a snap of twigs, and everyone turned to see Kyle appear from the trees. He looked slightly better now. He gestured behind him. "I found the road! It's about five minutes that way. Fatass was right. He did miss a curve back there. It was pretty sharp, too." He shook his head. "We're pretty lucky, actually."

"What d'ya mean?" Stan asked.

"I mean, we were damn lucky. There's a cliff like, freaking close to the road; if we had swerved in another direction, we would have gone off it."

"Holy shit, you serious?" Craig asked incredulously. Kyle nodded.

"It goes on for a long while. We're pretty close to it now,actually." Kyle pointed in a direction perpendicular to here the road had been. "It's over there."

Stan whistled. "Damn." He turned to the others. "Okay, we need to pick who's gonna go back on the road for help."

Everyone was silent. Kenny rolled his eyes. Of course no one was just gonna volunteer! Cartman cleared his throat.

"Well, I think the choice is obvious...Tweek should go."

Tweek shrieked again. "_What?_"

"Yeah, you were bitching about staying here 'forever', so now you don't have to. You can just go an wander back on that dark, _scary_ road, all by yourself."

The blonde made a strangled screaming noise, latching onto Craig, who angrily flipped off Cartman. "I don't w-wanna go! _Ngh!_ Sweet Jesus, I'll g-get murdered!"

"Weeeell..." Cartman drawled. "You can just stay here then, _forever_. With no coffee."

Tweek's eyes darted around, clearly torn. Craig growled. "Fuck off, fatass."

"Maybe he would feel better if someone went with 'im?" Butters offered. Everyone looked at him, as if surprised he was there. He flushed, continuing, "Well, I'ah know that I'ah'd sure be scared, goin' all alone in there. What if someone went with 'im?"

Tweek calmed down slightly at the suggestion, and Kyle looked thoughtful. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Safety in numbers, you know."

Cartman scanned the group, and Kenny saw a hopeful look cross Butters' face. Obviously, he didn't want to be here, and would rather go on the road than stay.

"Hmmm, alright then. Craig can go."

Butters' face fell, and Stan nodded. "Okay, that's good. He can keep him calm. Craig, you up for it?"

Craig shrugged. "S'long as I don't have to stay around fatass here."

"Ay!"

Crag flipped him off again, looking down at Tweek. "You wanna go?"

"_Ngh_...o-okay."

Twenty minutes passed as Kyle packed them a bag of food and water, along with a couple of blankets in case they got stuck out at night, then pointed then in the right direction, telling them how long they should travel, and what everything should look like. They left, and Stan looked at the group again.

"Alright. We should probably make a fire or something. I don't want to be left blind or cold when night hits, so we better get started now. Can anyone make a fire?"

Everyone looked at each other, and Butters spoke up again. "I'ah can."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "You can?"

The blonde nodded. "I'ah used t'be a Squirrel Scout when I'ah was younger."

Cartman snorted. "Fag."

Stan glared at him. "Shut up, fatass. You may have brought the food, but it won't count for anything if we all freeze to death." He turned to Butters. "Can you show us?"

Butters brightened up. "Sure! Well, first, we gotta find some dry wood."

* * *

Eventually they got a good fire blazing, because Butters was extremely good at finding dry wood in a near-soaked forest. They had dug a firepit, lined it with stones, shredded bark to create tinder, lit it with Kenny's lighter, and fed small twigs to it until the flames were licking hungrily at the wood. More damp wood lay around it, because Butters said it could dry off, and then they'd have more to burn.

Butters looked so proud of himself, it almost made Kenny laugh. After they were done, Clyde looked suggestively at the booze, and the party had started once more.

They all sat around the fire, laughing and passing bottles and joints around. Butters refused the beer but accepted the weed. It was all good, and would have stayed that way, if Butters hadn't dropped the drug into the fire.

"Oh, hamburgers." he frowned, eyes slightly confused as he tried to comprehend what had happened.

"What the fuck, Butters?" Cartman yelled. The fat boy always got very volatile when he was high, and he'd never had a good disposition toward Butters anyway.

"Dude, calm down." Stan said dismissively. "We have more, man. Just roll another one."

"Fuck that! That damn pussy can't even hold the fucking shit, why the fuck is he even smoking with us?" Cartman raged, standing up. He snorted like a mad bull, pointing a finger at the startled blonde. "He shouldn't be here! He should be n a fucking corner by himself, alone, like the faggot he is! Nobody wants him here!"

"Hey!" Kyle stood up. "How about you shut the hell up, fatass? What did Butters ever do to you, huh?"

The little bitch is fucking annoying! All the damn time, tryin to 'fit in' or whatever, when nobody likes him anyway!" Cartman turned his fury on Kyle. "Did _you_ want him here? Did _you_ think of inviting his pathetic ass?" He looked toward the others. "Did any of you?"

"Come on, man." Token frowned. "You're being a jackass. Just get another joint if you want one so badly."

Cartman ignored him, continuing. "No! None of you guys did. _Why the fuck is he here?_"

"Because you made me come here." Butters said lowly. Everyone turned toward him, and Cartman paused in his rant. He seemed to swell up as Butters continued. "I'ah jus' wanted to sleep in t'day, but for some reason, _you_ made my parents kick me out t'come on your stupid trip! I'ah'm just' tryin' to have fun if I'ah can, alright? I'ah don't see why you're complainin' so much, when _you_ made me come here!"

"You think _I_ invited you?" Cartman's voice was soft and dangerous. Kenny felt a sense of foreboding in his gut. This was going to get ugly. "You think I _invited you_?" Cartman howled. "I wouldn't have brought your ass if my life depended on it! The only reason I _had_ to take you—"

"Cartman!" Kenny stood up, tone warning. This was bad. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it..._

"—is because _your parents _are paying me five hundred buck to do it!" Cartman finished triumphantly. "Even your parents hate you enough to dump you on us!"

There was dead silence, and you could almost hear the sound of Butters' heart breaking. Everyone looked at him as Cartman's yell echoed around them, and Kenny saw little tears well up in those sky blue eyes. _Oh shit, man..._ Amazingly, Cartman still wasn't done.

"See, that's how much you parents _hate_ your fucking pathetic self! A measly five hundred; you weren't even _worth_ spending anything else!"

"SHUT UP!" Stan stood up, furious. "That's _enough_, Cartman! If you wanna talk shit about somebody, do it on your own fucking time! I came here to enjoy myself, and you're fucking ruining it! How about _you_ go off and sit alone somewhere like the bastard you are?" He took a step forward in rage and Cartman took a hurried one back, almost tripping over the log he sat on. "Because the only one who give's a rat's ass about what you're saying is _you!_"

The fat boy was silent, and he sat down reluctantly, muttering under his breath. Stan was red from fury, and he sat down too, prompting Kyle and Kenny to do the same. Clyde looked down guiltily, and Token sighed irritably. There was a tense silence, then suddenly Butters got, walking toward the shadowy trees. Kyle cursed.

"Aw, dammit." He got up to follow him, but Kenny stopped him.

"I'll go." He stepped past the redhead, Cartman's contemptuous snort loud in his ears. He caught up to Butters quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Butters..." He began hesitantly.

"Did you know?"

Kenny flinched at the dead tone of the blonde's voice, pausing. What could he say? He sighed. "Yeah, I did."

Butters pushed his hand away, turning around to face him. Kenny was surprised to see dry eyes staring back at him. Not a single tear was there. It was...frightening.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Butters asked. "I'ah pretty much asked you while we were drivin'. Why didn't y'tell me?"

"Man, nobody needs to know about that kinda shit. It's not right. Your parents are fucking jackasses, and so is fatass. I just..." he shrugged sadly. "It seemed too cruel to tell you your parents pulled that shit on you."

The other was silent. "Did everyone else know?"

"I...I guess, I dunno." Kenny admitted. "I mean, Craig and Tweek might not've, cuz they were getting picked up, but...I guess so." Again, Butters was silent, then he turned to walk deeper into the trees. "Hey, where're you going?" Kenny called.

"Jus' thought I'ah'd take a walk. Y'know, t'clear my head."

Kenny looked around. The sun was going to set soon, and that just seemed a bit dangerous. "Do you want me t'come with you? Y'know, to talk, maybe?"

Butters looked back at him sadly. "Nah, that's okay." And with that, he turned to leave, fading into the trees and leaving Kenny to walk back alone into a subdued group.

Butters never came back that night.

* * *

**A/N:**!


	5. Chapter Four:Searches, Cliffs and Danger

**Chapter Four  
Searches, Cliffs and Danger**

The next day dawned bright, and for Kenny, into panic. Everyone had passed out in Cartman's van during the cold night, a lot more comfortable now that Craig and Tweek weren't there, and Kenny woke up with the horrible realization that Butters wasn't there. He'd never come back from his walk last night.

"Oh fuck." He sat up from where he was curled up in the very back, leaning over the seat in front to nudge at Kyle.

"Hey, hey Kyle. Wake up man, wake up!" Kyle moaned as Kenny prodded, and the blonde growled. "Dammit, Kyle, wake the fuck up!" He punched him roughly in the arm, and Kyle slapped his arm away, sitting up and looking at him blearily.

"Dude, not so loud, my head is _pounding_, man." He pleaded in a whisper, his hand going up to rub at his eyes.

"Forget that, dumbass, Butters never came back." Kenny hissed. Kyle froze, eyes widening.

"What d'ya mean, he never came back?"

"Y'know how he was just gonna take a walk?" Kyle nodded hurriedly. "Well, he never came back! He's not here!"

"Fuck!" Kyle whirled in his spot, shaking Stan, who was sleeping next to him. "Stan! Stan, wake up, man!"

The raven-haired teen groaned, trying to turn away from Kyle, but the redhead persisted, and Stan eventually sat up, yawning.

"Man, Kyle, what the hell? I'm tryin' to sleep here...y'know, like a normal person?"

"Get up, jackass." Kenny butted in. "A certain blonde never came back last night."

"Who, Tweek? He's with Craig, man. Trying to find the road and whatever..." Stan tried to lie down again, until Kyle smacked him on the head. "Oww!"

"Not Tweek, retard! Butters! Butters didn't come back!"

"Butters?"

"Yes, Butters!" Kyle smacked him again.

Realization dawned in the raven's eyes. "After fatass said all that shit to him...fuck!" He whirled around to hurriedly open the door, accidentally hitting Clyde in the chest, who was sleeping next to him by the window.

"Fuck!" Clyde cursed, eyes snapping open. "Stan? What the fuck?"

Stan ignored him, throwing the door open and launching himself out. Kyle opened his door, and Kenny climbed over the seat to dart out after him. Clyde continued cursing, and in all the commotion, Cartman and Token woke up, glancing around blearily.

The three friends met outside, Kenny worried, Stan anxious and Kyle furious.

"What the hell are we gonna do?" Kyle asked. "Those woods must be huge, he could be anywhere!"

"No, no," Kenny shook his head. "It was getting dark, he'd have to stop after a while. He can't have gone too far." _God, I hope not..._

A door slamming caught their attention, and they turned, seeing Cartman come around the side.

"What the fuck, guys! You woke everybody up!" He yelled, red in the face already. Kyle's eyes narrowed as he saw the fat boy, stomping toward him angrily.

"This is all your fault! He's out there, lost, because you had to go and be a fucking jackass!"

"Hey, what the hell is your problem, Jew?" Cartman exclaimed angrily. "Just because Stan didn't fuck you hard enough doesn't mean you gotta take it out on me!"

"You fat Nazi _fuck!_" Kyle screamed, leaping at the brunet. Stan barely managed to grab him, and Kenny had to help him restrain Kyle, who was almost frothing at the mouth and yelling out in what Kenny though was probably Hebrew or something.

Stan dragged him back, and Kenny turned a glare on Cartman. "Butters never came back last night last night after all the shit you said to him last night."

"So?" Cartman snorted. "If we're lucky, maybe he turned emo and killed himself. 'Bout time we got rid of that faggot."

Kenny had to resist the desperate urge to finish what Kyle had been unable to do and punch Cartman's face in. His voice came out more like a growl. "You sick bastard, what the hell do you have against the poor guy?" He shook his head, not wanting to hear Cartman's twisted thoughts. "You know what? Never mind. But I hope you realize there's gonna be an investigation."

"What?"

"If we don't find him by the time the others bring the police here, how much you wanna bet there's gonna be an investigation as to why he left? They're gonna find out it was you who said all the crap to make him leave. There's gonna be trouble for you, fatass. You could even be arrested in manslaughter charges. Or at the very least for providing him with an incentive to leave."

"Hey man, I just told him the truth." Cartman blustered. Kenny growled.

"You went too far." He said through gritted teeth.

"It ain't my fault. They can't get me on anything."

"They may not." Kenny shrugged. "But you'll never get your five hundred from Butters' parents."

Cartman paused, then cursed. "Son of a fucking bitch. Like hell I took that little bastard all this way to not get my goddamn money."

Clyde and Token got out of the van, approaching them, as well as Stan and Kyle, who still looked pissed.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" Token asked, brows furrowed. Cartman sighed angrily, glaring at Kenny.

"Apparently we lost Butters, so now we have to go find his faggot ass." He turned to Kenny. "Alright, po' boy. You saw where Butters went. What direction?"

Kenny paused, scanning their surrounding. Okay, there was the firepit from last night, so... He pointed toward his left. "He went that way."

"So let's go find his stupid, emo self." Cartman muttered irritably. All of them suddenly heard Kyle gasp. Looking toward him, they saw his face pale and his eyes widen.

"Kyle?" Kenny asked hesitantly.

"Sweet God, no, he couldn't have..." Kyle muttered to himself, voice trembling. "He couldn't have...but...it was dark, really dark...no, no, no..."

"Dude, Kyle, what is it?" Stan asked, slightly worried at the look on his friend's face. A feeling of dread came over Kenny as Kyle looked at all of them.

"The cliff is that way."

There was a short pause, then Kenny took off, the rapid crash of footsteps telling him that the others were following. _Shit, shit, shit! _Kenny cursed inwardly. _I shouldn't have let him go like that; why the hell didn't I remember the cliff was that way?_

"Butters!" He cried out, hoping to hear something, anything in response. "Butters, where are you! Butters!"

Stan and Clyde took up his cry, Token and Kyle joining in a second later. Cartman was too busy trying to breathe through all the running he was doing. Together they raced through the undergrowth, six pairs of eyes on the lookout for any sign of the blonde boy.

"Butters! Butter where are y—_whoa!_" Kenny skidded to a stop, his searching cry cutting off into a panicked yell. The trees stopped and the ground had dropped off suddenly in front of him, as if a giant hand had reached down and scooped out a huge chunk of land. The others stopped behind him, each one mirroring the cry that Kenny had let out. Kenny felt the blood drain from his face as he looked downwards. It was a sheer drop, almost ninety degrees straight down, nothing but gravity in the empty air. It plummeted down hundreds of feet to a river, barely seen in the large height. Looking left and right, it went on in both directions, stretching on for what seemed forever.

"Holy shit..." Stan whispered, saying what they all thought.

"Dude, he _had_ to have seen that...I mean, come on, it's huge!" Token protested. "There's no way he could have just walked off it!"

Kyle shook his head. "...this place got really dark at night...really, really dark, and remember, Butters was smoking, just like us. He was probably high out of his mind."

Kenny just stared down. "I don't know if he was high out of his _mind_, but he was probably distracted as fuck." There was a long silence.

Stan was the first to snap out of it. "Okay you guys, we need to start searching for any sign of him." He pointed to the rest of them. "Clyde, Token, you guys search the cliff. Go off in different directions, check for anything; footprints, blood, anything."

"Blood?" Clyde asked hesitantly. "You...you think he might be hurt?"

The raven fixed him with a steady look. "Right now, we don't know anything. We need to be prepared for whatever happens." He gestured to himself, Kenny, Kyle and Cartman. "We'll go search in the forest. Maybe he didn't even get this far."

"What?" Cartman exclaimed. "I don't wanna go look in some stupid forest; we'll get fucking lost!"

Kyle glared at him. "You better do it, fatass, it's _your_ fault we're in this damn situation."

Stan interrupted Cartman as he opened his mouth to shoot back a retort. "_Anyway!_ As for the lost thing, we'll need to partner up. I'll go with Kyle, and Kenny can go with Cartman. Don't search too far from your buddy, we don't need to go looking for anyone else." He looked at all of them. "Got it?"

Everyone nodded, and they all split up to go search. Kenny strode into the woods with Cartman, both of them staying a couple of feet apart to search properly. They stayed in silence, but Kenny was fuming on the inside. He truly blamed Cartman for the disappearance of Butters, and right now, he hated being anywhere _near_ the fat bastard.

He growled. God, why couldn't they have lost the damn fatass, instead? They'd all be better off.

After a good fifteen minutes, Kenny paused, looking around. Whoa, wait a minute, where was Cartman? He couldn't see him anywhere. Taking stock of his surroundings, Kenny realized he had no idea where he was. Aw, dammit, he was fucking lost!

A loud crashing through the trees drew his attention and he froze, tensing for whatever had caused it. The noise grew louder and closer, and then something leapt in front of Kenny.

It was Token.

"Kenny! There you are! Hurry up, Clyde said he found something!"

"What? Did he find Butters?"

Token hesitated. "I-I don't know, I just went off to get you guys. I already told Cartman, he's on his way back."

"Well, come on, let's go!" Kenny took off running in the direction Token had come from, the black boy keeping pace with him as he ran.

"Wait, what about Stan and Kyle?" Token yelled above the crash of undergrowth.

"I got an idea." Kenny took a deep breath, not even pausing in his running as he put his fingers to his mouth and blew out a long, shrill whistle, the sound echoing in the trees. He was panting when he stopped, but forced himself to breathe and do it again. The blonde gulped in air. "I-I...I think...they h-heard it..."

"They better have." Kenny wasn't sure if he imagined the muttered words, or if Token had actually said them. There was a lot of noise.

They ran on, bursting out near the cliff only a few seconds before Stan and Kyle.

"What happened?" Stan demanded.

"Did they find Butters?" Kyle asked hopefully.

"I don't know, Clyde just told Token he found something." Kenny looked at Token. "Where is he?"

Token pointed to the right. Clyde and Cartman were standing together not too far away, staring over the edge of the cliff.

They walked closer, nervously, hesitantly, as if all of them knew something was waiting for them there. Kenny saw that Clyde looked almost close to tears. Cartman just looked stony.

Clyde pointed to the round, sniveling a bit. "...look."

The ground was scuffed up, dirt torn and dug from the bottom as it led from the treeline to the edge of the cliff. It wouldn't have been as bad, however, if it wasn't for the dark, smudged, dirty puddles of something reddish-brown.

"...is that...?" Kyle looked sick at the merest suggestion.

"Sure fucking looks like it." Cartman growled, prodding one congealed pool with the tip of his shoe. He cast a look over the rock edge. "You didn't see _that_ yet."

Kenny looked to where the fat boy had gestured. Down the side of the cliff, a small piece of something that looked like fabric waved, snagged on a crevice in the rock face. It was light blue in color.

The same as Butters' shirt.

There was a stunned silence, then Cartman snarled angrily. "Fucking hell, I just lost half a grand down a fucking cliff."

Kyle practically roared in fury, lunging at him, and this time everyone excluding Cartman held him back as he screamed in rage. "You goddamned fat bastard, all you care about is your _fucking_ money when someone's just _died_? What the fuck is _wrong _with you? You sadistic fucking son of a _whore_!"

"Ay, don't talk about my mother!" Cartman yelled angrily.

"_Burn in hell, you fat __bitch__!"_

"Kyle, stop it, STOP IT!" Stan cried, lifting him up out of sheer desperation. "We're three fucking inches from a goddamned cliff, do you want to die?"

The redhead stilled, panting in raging emotion as he glared hatefully at the fatass. Kenny felt like ripping out Cartman's throat and tossing him over, but he didn't want to go over as well. He'd already died and come back once, he didn't want to make it twice.

Token was taking a closer look at the scuffled ground as Kyle had stopped struggling enough to be let go. "Guys...there's something wrong with this."

"What? What d'ya mean?" Clyde asked.

"Look at this." He pointed at the marks. "He didn't just walk over this, there was force behind this. And look at the blood. You can't get this much from just falling or something. He was really hurt." He looked up hesitantly, almost scared. "Something pushed Butters off, after hurting him pretty badly."

Kenny shook his head, not wanting to believe any of this. "Hold on a sec, man, we're getting too ahead of ourselves here. I mean...we can't just say Butters is dead...like, that's fucking insane! And now we're saying something forced him over? How do we even know this is him? Shit, we can't just say he's dead!"

Stan looked down, giving Kenny a sad look. "Kenny...this cliff is high. You can see that. If he really walked off or whatever, we'd never find him. So unless we can find him in the woods or something, we have to go on the assumption that he'd dead." He gestured slowly to the ground. "Look at all this. What more can we say?"

"But he can't be fucking dead!" Kenny yelled. It wasn't right, how could someone like him just be dead? Goddammit, he didn't _deserve_ to die like that, after being told such a bunch of _shit_!

He whirled on Cartman. "Fuck it, this is all your fault! If you hadn't been such a fucking bastard, none of this would have happened! I hope the police get here quick, so they can throw your bitch ass in jail!"

"Hold on a minute, Kenny." Cartman growled lowly, taking a step toward him. His foot stomped over the drag marks and Kenny felt like killing him.

"Don't say shit like that, you don't know where a mouth like that'll get you. It'll get you a whole shit-load of trouble, po' boy." The brunet narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to jail, no matter what it takes."

Kenny stood his ground, voice deadly. "You wanna toss me over and shut my mouth for a while?" He laughed sardonically, hands clenching to ready fists. "I'd like to see you _try,_ fat boy."

"Stop it." Stan pushed Kenny back, getting between him and Cartman. "This isn't helping anything right now. We need to wait for the police to get here, so they can look properly. Maybe they'll find Butters, I don't know." He looked at the group. "We need to get back. Alright?"

No one answered, and he repeated it again, more forcefully this time.

"_Alright_?"

Everyone muttered some type of assent, and Stan nodded, stepping back to walk into the trees again, Kyle walking ahead and pointing out the direction the van was in. Kenny and Cartman spared each other one more glare then followed sullenly, crunching twigs and dry leaves underfoot. Kenny resolved to mark the place where the drag marks were later, so the police could take a look at it when they arrived.

They walked for a couple of long minutes, then strode back into their small clearing of their 'camp site'.

Kyle gasped, and Cartman cursed incredulously. Clyde took a step back in horror.

Kenny just stared.

The entire place was in shambles.

The firepit was nothing more than scattered ashes, and every single bottle of booze was shattered on the dirty ground, giving the entire place the look of a glass minefield. The windows on Cartman's van had been broken roughly, and the tires were slashed. The food remained untouched somehow.

What was most unsettling about it all, and what caused everyone's heart to thud painfully in fear, was another piece of the bright blue shirt hanging from one sharp edge of windowglass, ripped and bloody, the contents of a couple of backpacks scattered on the ground around it. A message was scratched into the paint of Cartman's van, and Kenny shuddered as he read it.

'_ONE DOWN_'


	6. Chapter Five:One Down, Two Down

**Chapter Five  
One Down, Two Down**

Silence reigned supreme for long minutes as they only stared at the wreck of their temporary area, until Kyle reluctantly murmured,

"We...we were only gone for—"

"We were gone long enough for somebody to do this." Stan said, looking slightly sick.

Cartman snorted. "At least now we know someone did murder that little f—"

"Don't. Start." Stan snarled.

"Jesus Christ, it looks like a tornado came through here..." Clyde whispered, glancing at Token nervously.

The black boy looked at them all. "Does...does this mean we're in trouble?"

"What?" Kyle asked nervously. Token pointed a trembling finger to the menacing words scratched on the side of Cartman's van.

"Guys, I really think we're in trouble."

"Fuck, man, there's some crazy bastard out in here! Shit, I ain't staying!" Clyde shot off toward the left, toward where the road was, and Stan ran after him, grabbing him by the arm.

"Wait! You can't go by yourself!" He yanked him to a stop, turning to face the rest of them. "We can't go alone anywhere anymore!" He paused, looking at them steadily. "Whoever did this, they could be waiting. Watching us." He glanced at the tires. "The guy has a knife, at the very least. We're not safe alone."

"We need to leave!" Clyde screeched, fighting to escape Stan's grip. "We need to go and find the road, and go where Craig and—" he froze, face paling. "Oh God, what if he's already got Craig and Tweek? You bastards let them go all alone!"

"Shut the fuck up, you little pussy!" Cartman suddenly spat out, looking contemptuous. "This shit probably ain't even real; some goddamn fucking kids are probably campin' out here and decided to screw with us. Bunch of faggots messed up my van!"

"Faggots who may have also _killed_ someone." Kyle butted in harshly. "Or do I have to remind you that we still don't have Butters around? Who the hell is that shirt from anyway, huh? Where did the blood come from?"

"Whatever." Cartman scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I don't believe this for shit. You guys can acts like a bunch of scared bitches; I'm gonna find me a bottle that ain't broke. Have fun, idiots."

He strode off, crunching glass underfoot as he made his way toward the van. Kyle glared after him, and Token sighed.

"You ever wonder what this might have been like if it had been Cartman instead?"

"All the fucking time." Kenny growled. He needed a drink; thinking about Butters dying made his heart ache.

Stan gestured wearily. "Come on. We need to rebuild the fire. We're waiting here until Tweek and Craig come back with help." He looked toward Clyde, who had opened his mouth to speak. "I'm certain they're fine. Now, let's go."

* * *

The day passed with extreme slowness as they built up their scattered fire for a night that was hours away and cleared away glass with branches, and every time Kenny picked up a piece of wood to throw it into the flames, he was reminded of Butters' happily proud face as he had taught them how to do this.

Jesus Christ, this wasn't possible. He didn't want to think that Butters was dead, how could he? Only a few hours ago they were having fun, smoking and drinking around this very place. It wasn't like everyone had hung out like that all the time; Clyde and Token hung in different circles and no one talked to Butters. It had been different, but nice. Like all a small reunion of the guys from elementary school. If Craig and Tweek hadn't gone to find help, they would have been a part of it too.

He'd just been getting to know Butters. And the kid wasn't even that bad, he was actually pretty cool. Kenny's fingers clenched. He'd only been looking for some friendship. He hadn't deserved to die.

Kenny glanced around. Everybody was sitting silently, and a tense air hung around them all: Stan and Kyle sat side by side on a log, both of them passing between them a large bag of chips, staring silently into the fire. Token was poking buttons of his expensive phone, probably trying to find a signal or something. Clyde was sitting in between Token and Kenny, knees drawn to his chest and glancing every couple of minutes or so into the woods around them, squirming slightly.

Cartman was leaning on the side of his van, nursing a bottle of liquor he had found under the front seat. The only one left, he thought, and Kenny didn't think fatass was willing to share. Not that he thought anybody else wanted a drink but him.

Hours passed before anybody broke the silence, and it was Clyde this time, voice strangely muffled. Kenny wondered if he'd been holding back tears.

"Guys...I think we need to go and get help ourselves. Maybe we can...y'know, catch up to Craig and Tweek."

"The time's passed where we could do that." Token said lowly, eyes fixed on the ground.

Stan nodded. "Token's right. It's nearly night again; we don't want to be caught out there at night, alone."

"But I wanted to leave! Why didn't we?" Clyde shot up, pointing an accusing finger at Stan. "You're the one who made us stay, goddammit! You fucking bastard, there's a fucking killer out there and you made us stay!"

The raven stayed silent and it was Kyle who picked up the thread. "If we were all going to leave together, we should have done it all at once, not just left Tweek and Craig to do it themselves. But we didn't because none of us wanted to leave the fucking booze. Now there's no point in it. We already sent two people, and there's no point in us leaving and possibly getting a ride from some person in a different direction, when they're getting help already."

"Night is coming down quick." Stan murmured. "It's too dangerous. And if Butters is still alive," he glanced toward Kenny. "We need to be here in case he makes his way back. He might see the fire in the dark."

"I still think you're bein' a bunch of retards." Cartman suddenly spoke from the van, eyes half-lidded and nearly empty bottle clutched in loose hands. He was drunk, or at the very least getting there.

"There's no goddamned killer out there. Jus' some bastard who wants t' fuck with us." His words were heavy as he lumbered toward them, uncrossing his arms. "He wants to get 'n our head, y'know? He prob'bly came across Butters' damn shirt in the rocks, and he ripped it out, but accidentally left a piece in there. Jus' some fucking bitch who ain't got the balls to _show himself!_" The last part he roared out toward the woods, screaming at the darkening trees. He laughed, then held up the bloody remains of Butters' shirt in his free hand. Kenny hadn't seen him take it.

"And Butters? Shit, Butters is dead. You all need t'get that. He prob'ably fell and cracked open his head, and stumbled over th' cliff on accident. Everyone knows head wounds bleed like a bitch." He took another swig of his bottle, and spat the liquid over the cloth, tossing it into the flames. It caught fire instantly.

No one moved to stop him, and Cartman continued, words slightly slurred.

"For all we know, the faggot who's doin' this prob'bly lives around here, and he came across Butters in the night, and got scared and accidentally killed 'im. He dragged his body over and tossed him, then saw the shirt caught an' decided to do this so we'd get scared an' leave. Bastard's tryin' to cover his tracks...doesn't want nobody t'know he killed the blonde bitch."

Token looked at him distainfully. "Sit down, Cartman. You're drunk."

"That was th' point, wasn't it, y'nigger?"

"Don't call me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want, this is _my _trip." Cartman snarled.

"And look where the hell _that_ got us, you fucking fat tub of lard." Kyle bit out, his muscles clearly tense in the firelight.

"Shut up, Jew." The fat boy, amazingly, started to laugh. "I'm not th' one running around, scared shitless." He came closer, settling down on the log he had sat on from last night, and his grin seemed lurid, sly and almost demonic as he leaned in closer. "I'm not scared like you, Jew. Do you know why?"

"Fuck off." Kyle spat out. "I don't want to hear anything about your fat ass."

"I have a littl' somethin'...a little friend with me..." Cartman reached behind his thick jacket, pulling out a gun.

"Holy—!" Everyone tensed up at the sight, and Cartman laughed again, staring at the weapon almost lovingly.

"It's a Glock 19...standard police issue, you know...if that bastard comes sneakin' around here, I'll shoot his motherfucking brains out. I'm a good shot...you wanna see?" He raised the gun to point at Kyle, and the redhead's eyes widened fearfully.

"Bang!" Cartman laughed maniacally, and Stan glared at him. Kenny could see he was itching to fight.

"Yeah, we get it, Cartman. You're a big, scary, drunk man. Now put that shit away."

They locked eyes, and silent glares clashed as a taut moment passed. Stan's voice was low, warning.

"_Put. It. Away."_

The fatass stared at him for another moment, then tucked it back underneath his jacket, baring his teeth. "Don't come cryin' to me when some crazy psycho's gonna cut you open. There ain't a bullet in here with your life's name on it."

"You said it yourself." The raven replied mockingly. "There's no killer out there."

Another long moment, then Clyde stood up, looking at Cartman nervously. "I, uh, I gotta go take a piss."

Kyle looked up at him. "Do it behind the van, you shouldn't go off into the woods right now."

Clyde giggled almost hysterically. "Shit, I'm not doing that. Don't want you guys watching."

"Clyde, we had football practice together for seven years. Everyone's seen your goddamn dick."

Clyde shook his head anxiously, backing up. "No, no, I'll, uh, I won't go far. I'll be right back. Swear."

He jogged off toward the woods, quickly disappearing behind a couple of trees. Token yelled out, "That's far enough, Clyde!"

His voice came back, close enough that they could hear it okay. "_I'm fine! Let me take a fucking leak, okay?_"

"Don't go any farther!"

"_Alright, alright, DAD._"

"Bastard." Token muttered, settling back into his seat on the ground.

Kenny spoke up from where he had watched it all, his voice slightly scratchy from lack of use. "He's scared. He's been wanting to cry for the last four hours. He probably isn't taking a leak or anything."

"Pussy." Cartman scoffed.

"Shut up, Cartman, just shut the fuck up." Kenny turned a hollow gaze onto the brunet. "If there's at least one shred of human decency in your damned soul, shut up for five damn minutes. No one wants to hear you right now."

Cartman stared at him, then against all belief, sighed, putting the bottle to his lips again. "Whatever y'say, po' boy."

Token spoke up again. "How long do we wait until we leave ourselves?"

Stan looked up at the setting sun, brows furrowed. "If Craig and Tweek don't come back by tomorrow morning, we pack what we can and leave. We can hitch a ride by the road, or at the very least walk."

Kyle smiled grimly. "What are we thinking about those two anyway?"

Kenny shrugged. "So far, we've really only seen that the guy had a knife. He used a rock to break the windows. I don't think he could have taken Craig that easily. Not with Tweek around."

"The guy's a beast where Tweek's involved." Token agreed.

Stan gestured to the van. "Besides, it says one down, not three. We have to think that he didn't know about them. We sent them fairly quick after we woke up."

"So, we're assuming that they're alive and well, and that they're getting help right now. By this time, they've at least probably gotten a ride or something to the nearest town." Kyle nodded to himself, and Stan looked over to where Clyde was hidden by trees.

"You didn't want Clyde to be part of this?"

Token shrugged. "He's too freaked out as it is."

There was a moment's pause, and Kenny glanced up wearily. "Anything left in that bottle, Cartman?"

The fat boy looked over at him, passing it over without complaint and Kenny took a short look at the little liquid left inside, tossing back the rest of it. Cartman stood up slowly, lumbering back toward the van.

"There's another bottle left in th' van...I'll go get it..."

Token stood up as well. "I'm gonna go check on Clyde. If he really is crying I don't think he'll want anyone else to see."

Stan laughed sardonically. "He was such a crybaby when we were younger. Does he think we've never seen him cry?"

"No." Token looked almost sad. "But it's different now. He's trying to be a man, whatever that means for him."

He walked off toward where Clyde was and Stan looked down, silent again. Kenny wondered what was going through his mind. He was the clear leader in this, but he hadn't shown much of his own thought about any of this. He wondered if Stan was feeling pressured, or anxious. He wondered why he was still being the leader.

Kyle patted Stan on the back, and Kenny knew that the redhead probably knew more about what Stan was feeling than anybody else. He wondered how they had stayed so close over the long years. He didn't have a friend like that, and in truth, he didn't know anybody else who did. Even lovers didn't have that trust. He wondered what he'd have to do to get that.

He wondered why he was thinking about all of this right now.

And then a horrified scream split the air.

A shattering sound came from the van along with with a loud "Fuck!", and Cartman darted around the side, one of his hands bleeding slightly.

"What the fuck was that?"

Everyone was already on their feet and Stan said only, "It came from where Clyde and Token are." And then he took off running.

Everyone followed, and Kenny felt almost panicked. That sound...he'd never heard something so agonized...he couldn't imagine anybody making that sound, much less Token. He put on a burst of speed, darting forward.

And so he was the first one to see.

Token was on the ground, shaking, whimpering as choked sounds came from his throat. His eyes were fixed on something on the ground, and when Kenny saw it, he gasped, then leaned over and threw up.

It was Clyde.

Dead.

The leaves on the ground were scattered, and the red on Token's hands said that he had turned him over to face the sky. His brown eyes were wide in terror, and his mouth was open in a twisted, silent scream. Tears marked the sides of his cheeks; he'd been crying. There was blood everywhere; the stinging scent was sharp in his nose as Kenny choked in air.

His throat was slit.

And so was his belly.

Intestines spilled out in the dirty ground, and blood formed a small lake around the body, marking Clyde's clothes, his face, everything. He looked terrified in death.

The others skidded to a stop a second behind Kenny, and Cartman took one look before darting to the side, the heaving, choking sounds he made telling Kenny he was throwing up every ounce of liquor he'd drank.

Kyle covered his mouth, making the slight sound of someone who's about to throw up, but held it inside, instead turning his face away in horror. Stan, who had never been very religious, crossed himself as he cursed lowly.

"Dear God..."

Kenny wiped his mouth, still feeling shocked, horrified, disgusted and scared, and he looked up, a small whine coming from his mouth as he pointed.

"...look."

The tree behind Clyde's body seemed to hug him in its roots, and there, painted sloppily in dripping red was the number

_2_


	7. Chapter Six:Accusation,Revenge and Death

**Chapter Six  
Accusation, Revenge and Death**

Night had fallen and they all huddled around the fire. Token was wrapped in a blanket, sitting by himself, shaking. He hadn't spoken a word since they'd found Clyde's body.

Stan and Kenny had returned about five minutes ago. They'd been arranging Clyde's body, closing his eyes and mouth and covering him with leaves as a sign of respect, seeing as they didn't have a shovel. Stan had suggested it. He said he didn't want to leave Clyde like that. It wasn't right.

'_Nothing about this is right anymore_.' Kenny thought moodily, stabbing a stick into the depths of the fire. The end caught fire and he growled, tossing it in.

Kyle had stayed with Token, for both support and protection, and Cartman sat now with the gun on his lap. He'd gone with Stan and Kenny with the gun clutched in a ready hand in case they got attacked in the dark.

No one protested the weapon being out now.

Token started crying. Low, miserable tears seeped from shocked eyes, and he buried his head in his knees, shaking. Kyle laid a hand on his shoulder; Token shoved it away.

"We leave in the morning." Stan spoke quietly, but everyone heard him. "We can't afford to stay here any longer. Tonight is too dangerous, but as soon as the sun comes up we leave. We'll find the road and hitchhike, something, but we can't stay here."

"You couldn't have decided that sooner, could you?" Token's thick voice sounded, and it was with accusing eyes that he lifted his head to glare at Stan. "Oh, big and mighty leader, making us stay in this fucking place...I should have listened to Clyde! I should have gotten out of here, we ALL should have gotten out of here when we had the chance!" He spat in Stan's direction. "It's your fault Clyde's dead! Acting like such a wise-ass bastard, don't make me laugh! You couldn't lead your way out of a fucking paper bag!"

"Hey, stop it." Kyle spoke up in Stan's defense. "You think you're the only one hurting? Clyde was our friend too y—"

Token burst out into hysterical laughter. "No! No he wasn't! None of you have had a real conversation with Clyde in two fucking years! Oh yeah, you'll say hi, you'll ask what he did over the weekend, but he wasn't any of you guys' _friend_! _I_ knew him! He was _my_ friend! Me and Craig and Tweek, we were his friends!" He stood up, and tears flowed down his raging face.

"Craig and Tweek always had each other, and that was fine, but Clyde was _my best friend!_ Don't tell me he was your friend; you don't know shit about him!"

He whirled on Kyle, screaming. "What was his favorite movie? What's his favorite flavor of taco sauce?"

He turned to Stan. "Do you know the name of the toy he still sleeps with? How about the color of his fucking_ bedroom walls_? Do you? NO! NO YOU DON'T! HE WAS _MY_ FRIEND, NOT _YOURS_!"

Token stopped, panting, and he suddenly sat down again heavily, sobbing into his hands. "He w-was my friend...my friend..."

Stan didn't even look at him. He just stared down at the ground, rubbing his shoulder with a slow hand. Kenny supposed it still ached. They had been through so much already. The accident had only been yesterday, after all.

Yesterday. He couldn't believe it had only been 24 hours ago. It seemed like so much longer. Years. A lifetime ago.

A long time passed before anybody spoke again, and the silence of the dead air was broken only by the crackle of the flames, and the halting, crushed sound of Token's sobbing. Kyle only stared at Token with a indeterminable look on his face, then glanced over at Stan, suddenly going over to sit by him. He didn't touch him, just looked at everyone and said firmly,

"We'll take turns keeping watching over each other in the night. I'll lend you guys my watch, it has a small light. We're keeping each other safe tonight."

Kenny nodded slowly, and Cartman did as well. Stan said nothing, but Token suddenly took a deep breath, fixing everyone with a hateful gaze and stalking off toward the van.

Kyle's eyes followed him as he left. He sighed. "I'll take first watch."

* * *

Kenny lay down in the very back again, curling up slowly on the hard floor. He'd cleared the remnants of window glass out earlier so he could lay down safely.

He sighed, hugging his blanket tighter. Stan had agreed to take second watch; after Kyle's sudden burst of leadership, he'd seemed to regain himself, eyes determined again, if only for a little while. Kenny was fifth, he had last watch. Token had somehow agreed to be third, which left Cartman with the fourth watch. He could hear Kyle settling down for his appointed hours, and if he gazed up, he could see the light of the fire reflecting glumly off of the interior of the van.

He'd heard Stan and Kyle talking in low voices apart from the others before his watch. Kenny had been sweeping out glass and Cartman and Token had already gone to sleep, but it seemed that Kyle was consoling Stan. He'd thought that maybe Stan was crying. That newly-strong Stan had all been a show.

Everything was falling apart.

He wondered how Tweek and Craig would take it when they found out Clyde was dead. Murdered. He supposed Tweek would cry. Spaz out and cry, and hold on to Craig like he always did when he was upset. He didn't know how Craig would take it. Would he just stand there, stunned and disbelieving? Would he cry? Or would he do nothing at all, and keep on that same monotone face he always had?

Hell, who even knew if they were even alive to eventually know? At this point, Kenny didn't lean one way or another. They might be dead, they might be getting help. But for them, it was too late to change what had already happened.

Two people dead, maybe four, and for what? For nothing.

He couldn't close his eyes. He still saw that blood on the ground by the cliff, the wide open irises of Clyde's dead eyes. Kenny held in a shuddering breath.

Clyde's favorite movie was Nacho Libre. His favorite taco sauce flavor was cheese, as strange as it was. His toy's name was Ninja. And his bedroom walls were green and red. He'd painted them last year.

He'd talked to Clyde, really talked to him, on various occasions. He'd gone over to his house more than once, just to copy homework and hang with someone who wasn't tired of him. He'd thought he was his friend, but he'd said nothing in front of Token. There was a certain comfort in knowing that only you knew somebody, no matter how bad it was, and it'd only be cruel to take that from Token right now.

Kenny rolled onto his other side, watching the lurid reflection of flames on the remains of the shattered window. He wished he'd given Butters that same chance to be his friend.

He wanted a drink. He wanted to go home. He missed Butters and Clyde.

It would be a long night.

* * *

The night was deep in the sky and the stars shone in the millions across the black. Token stared with hollowed, empty eyes out at the dark trees, his dark face drawn in a tight, grieving scowl. In front of him, the fire was nothing but embers now, sparking weakly against the deadly black of night. He wasn't supposed to let the fire go out, but what did he care now?

Everything could go to hell, for all he cared.

Four voices in sleep came to his ears, some snoring, others just breathing, and Token listened in disdain. What did they know? They'd barely known Butters, they couldn't even properly grieve him. He hadn't really known him either, but it was too late for that. But Clyde...

Dear, sweet, dead Clyde.

He was gone, and only he knew how much it hurt. He couldn't believe they'd been so stupid enough to say that he'd been their friend. No one knew him like Token. And now no one else would.

He knew he shouldn't have let him gone off alone. He should have gone with him. Clyde had still allowed him to see him cry sometimes.

Token felt the phantom sensation of tears prickle his eyes, but nothing came. He'd cried himself out a while ago.

His family had always been wealthy, and would probably remain so even after he got married and had kids. But Clyde had never cared about that. Sure, he'd mooch off of him for food and things in the cafeteria, but Clyde had always had a loving relationship with food, even after it took all of the meager money he had. Token had never cared. He'd bribed him with food loads of times, actually.

Token knew no matter how rich he was, no amount of money would ever get him a friend like Clyde ever again. He'd been the brother he'd never had.

The fire died completely and Token was left in perfect darkness. He could barely see his own hand in front of himself. He stood, clutching a box cutter in one tight hand. He'd gone through Kyle's bags not too long ago. It was in the first aid kit, presumably for cutting away clothes from wounds or something else like that.

He smiled but it held no joy. Only anger and pain. A knife against a knife. It seemed only fair.

Token walked off into the darkness of the trees, resolute in his purpose.

* * *

A scream shattered the night and Kenny bolted up, heart thudding. He couldn't see anything. He was blind.

"What the fuck!"

Near him, the other three woke up in similar fashions, and Kyle was yelling about 'where was everybody' and Cartman was just cursing indiscriminately. Stan's loud roar raised above everybody else's, commanding them all.

"THE FIRE! THE FIRE IS OUT, EVERYBODY STOP _YELLING_!"

There was a panting silence, and Kyle suddenly asked slowly, "Who's watch is it? Who's here?"

"I woke up Token." Stan said, and Kenny threw in, "He hasn't woken me up."

"Token?" Kyle called. "Token, you there?"

Nothing.

"Token!" Everybody scrambled up from their respective sleeping positions in the van, and Stan cursed as he encountered some stray glass. It was a mass confusion and everyone bumped into each other as they fought to get outside. Stumbling, scrambling blindly in the dark, they encountered each other in the dark outside, and Kenny touched Stan and Cartman.

"Kyle! Kyle, where are you?" Stan yelled out suddenly, panicked.

"Here! Wait!" A bright beam of light broke the night and Kyle came around the side, the bouncing beam of a flashlight held in his hands. He tossed them all an extra, explaining rapidly, babbling almost,

"I packed them in case the lights went out in the cabin but we had the fire, so I didn't think we needed them, and..."

"Good thinking, Kyle." Stan said, cutting him off as he shone his light around. Token was nowhere to be seen. "Did anyone hear where that scream came from?"

Cartman pointed off to the right, away from the cliff and into darker forest. "I heard it from there."

"Me too." Kenny said lowly.

"Come on then." Stan took off at a brisk walk toward the trees and the rest followed quickly. Stan called out Token's name.

"_Token! Token, where are you? Token!_"

Kyle took it up as well, each one waiting a couple of seconds in case the other responded back. Kenny looked over to Cartman.

"Where do you think Token is?" He asked.

"Hell." The other responded shortly.

Kenny looked back, and started calling out Token's name as well. Stan suddenly cried out, "Everybody five feet apart!"

They made themselves into a horizontal line cutting into the woods, shining flashlights all around, the beams bouncing crazily off of tree trunks and making everything more confused. After a couple of minutes Stan yelled out,

"STOP! We're getting too far away from the van, stop!"

Everyone paused and Kyle called out desperately from the end of the line, "_Token, where are you?_"

A heavy snap, like a tree trunk breaking, echoed from the right and Kyle gasped, taking off toward it. "Token? Token, it's us! Where are you?"

"_NO! Kyle, stop! Come back!_" Stan's voice was high in terror as he darted after him into the dark, and Kenny yelled for them to stop but they didn't listen and he ran after them too, Cartman's heavy footfalls following as they pushed through the sharp edges of branches.

Kyle screamed.

"_TOKEN!_"

"Kyle!" Kenny pushed himself faster and somehow Cartman kept up, and then they both heard Stan's loud, panicked curse.

"_Fuck!_"

Kenny and Cartman came upon Stan, throwing up hideously by a thick, thorny bush, his flashlight shining forgotten on the ground at his feet. They could hear Kyle sobbing up ahead, and Kenny smelt the sharp, metallic scent of blood, tasted it in the back of his throat.

"Oh God..." Cartman muttered, and Kenny looked to see where he was looking at, aiming his flashlight in Kyle's direction.

Kyle was on his knees, crying, and beyond him lay Token.

Or what was left of him.

His front had been slashed to pieces, raw, red trails of flesh hanging away from his face and his body still twitched vainly as gargled sounds came from his ripped throat. Not slashed. Ripped.

Kenny ran to his side but it was too late, there was a nasty rattle and Token was finally still. He looked at his chest and he heaved emptily, holding his mouth. Token's chest looked like it had been forced open by an animal, and there was the handle of a box cutter jutting from his heart. Blood still oozed from the depths, pooling around the corpse.

On what skin remained on the bones of his chest, was the scarlet painting of the number _3_.

"Kenny..." Cartman's shaking voice drew his attention, and he looked into the bright beam of the fat boy's flashlight, which beckoned his gaze upwards.

On a nearby tree were clumsily carved the thin words,

'_HE CAME FOR REVENGE'_


	8. Chapter Seven: And Then There Was None

**Chapter Seven  
And Then There Was None**

Kyle was sobbing thickly, and Cartman suddenly growled out,

"Dammit, this shit is too much, I'm fuckin' out of here!" He sounded almost scared. Kenny, in the depths of his blankly fearful mind, thought that it was about time for him to show some damn sense.

Then he heard the shuffle of retreating feet, and Kenny snapped out of his shock just in time to see Cartman whirl around, taking off toward the van. "Fuck you guys," the fat boy yelled. "I'm saving myself!"

"No, Cartman, wait!" Stan hurriedly wiped his mouth, straightening on shaky legs as he cried out anxiously. "No, don't go by yourself!" He made as if to run after him but Kyle suddenly grabbed him out of nowhere, shrieking.

"Stop it, Stan, let him go! Let him go!" He was crying fearfully, trying to hold the raven back. "Don't go!"

"Cartman! Cartman!" Stan seemed almost deaf to Kyle's pleads, struggling fiercely as he stared after the place where Cartman had disappeared into. Kenny thought he was just scared. For himself. For Cartman. For everyone. Lurking death tended to do that.

Kyle and Stan were around the same height and size, so the redhead was successfully holding the black-haired boy back, but Stan kept on fighting, struggling, and Kyle was going to lose hold on him pretty soon. Kenny jumped in, grabbing Stan by the shoulders and shaking him.

"Stop it, Stan! He's gone!" Kenny stared into Stan's wide, panicked eyes. "He made his choice! For the love of God, he's fucking _armed_! We _aren't_! Should we all die because of one fucking fatass?"

"B-but..." Stan seemed to be struggling for an excuse, a reason to go after him. "He's...he's...!"

"He's made his choice!" Kenny screamed. "He left us! Did you even hear him! He left to save _himself!_ So snap out of it!" He punched him in the face.

Stan froze, head turned to the side from the force of the blow. He touched his cheek, head down as his fingers spread over the surely throbbing flesh. His voice come out low.

"He's a Nazi jackass with absolutely no soul whatsoever...but we've all been a group for more than fourteen years. Don't tell me you've forgotten that, Kenny." He looked up at Kenny, and the blonde was stunned to see his blue eyes devoid of all emotion. Like Butters' had been before he'd left to his death.

"We all stay together."

Kenny said nothing, and Kyle came up to Stan's side, muttering something about Token. Stan glanced back carelessly at the lifeless body beyond their sights.

"Token's dead. We have to leave. Now."

He walked back a few steps to pick up his fallen flashlight, and then straightened, leading the way back into the dark, shadowy trees toward the van. "Let's go."

Kyle glanced at Kenny, pitying, but he followed Stan without a word to the blonde, wiping away his tears. Kenny glanced back at Token, and he wished he could say something but he couldn't, and then he turned away, running to catch up with the other two.

He wanted to cry.

* * *

Thick undergrowth crashed underfoot as Cartman shoved his way past the trees, the gun gripped tightly in one hand and the flashlight held in the other. Panicked, angry eyes darted around the darkness as he rushed forward, and soon he burst into the clearing that held the van and the remnants of their fire. Glass sparkled in the moonlight as he stared, and Cartman growled, running through the dirty ground.

Fuck those other bastards. Fucking dead weight now; Stan was useless, Kyle was pathetic, and Kenny couldn't be counted on. That little bastard would only come back, no matter what. With a trump card like that, Cartman couldn't count on him to watch his back. No, he was better off alone. He would survive, he would beat this fucking psycho bitch and come out on top.

He couldn't die.

Cartman reached the other side of the clearing and dove right in, stomping and snapping the twigs underneath in loud noises. Yeah, let that bastard come. He could take care of himself; just let that fucker try to touch him, he'd shoot the brains out of his motherfucking skull. He was armed, he had a gun, he was safe.

The fat boy reached the dirt road in record time, grinning viciously as he stared down at the muddy surface, and setting off down it. He was nearly there; all he had to do was reach the highway and he was golden; he'd hail down the first car and drive away from all this goddamned shit. Fuck whatever happened to the other guys.

He'd never liked them anyways.

A snap sounded, not from under his feet but instead from behind him and Cartman felt his heart freeze in fear. He whirled around, gun held at ready as wide eyes scanned the road behind him, light shining brightly. Nothing was there.

Cartman snorted nervously, turning around and going down the muddy road again, hands slightly shaking. Fuck. Some stupid animal or something. He'd shoot it if it came too close.

_Crack!_

Another sharp sound, this time closer, more clearer, and Cartman shot around, hands shaking madly. There was nothing. He laughed hysterically, suddenly screaming.

"You fucking bastard! Where the fuck are you? Huh? Pussy! Fucking pussy!" He laughed again, derisively, waving the flashlight around. "You can't fucking touch me! Too fucking scared, huh? Lousy son of a bitch, why don't you fucking _show yourself_?"

His voice shot up to a shrieking level at the last words, and Cartman waited, fear-darkened eyes looking everywhere, and nowhere. A high, maniacal giggle tore from his throat as nothing happened.

_CRACK!_

The sound was right behind him and Cartman screamed, trying to run before he even saw who it was but all he felt was a burning pain in his back and he was in so much pain he didn't even notice as he fell forward. He saw a dark liquid pool around him in the fallen light and he wanted to laugh, he did laugh as he saw it. It was inconceivable, stupid...what was this?

A weight settled on his back, and Cartman grunted as a hand grabbed his hair. And slammed his face down into the ground.

He lost count after the first time, all that remained was his muffled screams and a pain that fuzzed everything he thought inside. He couldn't think, couldn't move, laying limp as the person turned him around with a low grunt of exertion. Cartman looked up hazily, dizzily, as the weight descended on him again and he saw a glint of what could have been a knife, if he could have focused on anything in that point in time.

Eyes that glowed stared back at him and suddenly Cartman felt fear. He had lost. There was a grin, and the knife descended. The culprit laughed at his screams.

He wanted him awake when he cut him.

He wanted him to feel _everything_.

* * *

"Come on, guys, get what you need, but hurry up, we have to leave right now." Stan's commanding tone cut through the clearing as they reached it, and he ran forward to wrench open the van's door, pulling his bag out and stuffing it a couple bottles of water and packets of food. Kyle went around the other side, muttering lowly to Kenny,

"Can you go get my first-aid kit? It was by the fire, remember?"

"Yeah, sure." Kenny turned, going around the van again to approach the dead ashes, spotting the almost forgotten red bag, now dark crimson in the nighttime. He picked it up warily, looking cautiously into the dark of the forest beyond. There was something out there...something dangerous and deadly.

A shift caught his eyes and Kenny stared at a certain patch of darker black, spotting two little pinpricks reflecting in the moonlight.

Eyes.

Watching him.

His heart stopped and Kenny shuddered, a cold feeling washing over him as the lights blinked, piercing him across the distance. They had to be eyes. He wasn't imagining things, was he? He was staring at death. And he was afraid.

"_Kenny_!"

The loud call startled him; he jumped and whirled around, facing the van as he heard Kyle's panicked voice. A chill ran down his spine as he realized he had just put his back to the eyes and he spun around again, scanning the blackness.

There was nothing. The lights were gone.

"KENNY!"

"What!" The blonde called back, and he couldn't help but have a certain quaver in his voice as he responded. What had that been?

"Get back here!"

This time it was Stan who called out to him and Kenny grabbed the first-aid kit again, glancing back at the empty woods before darting back to the other two.

They all grabbed what they could, and Stan took a last look at the clearing before shining his flashlight in the direction that they were going to go in.

"Alright, come on."

They walked together into the dark woods, on high alert, and Kenny couldn't help but glance around in the darkness for those lights, for those eyes to appear and start to watch him again. But there was nothing. It was silent in here, completely silent and devoid of all noise except for their noisy tramping in the brush, making their calmly desperate escape.

Minutes passed, and Kyle muttered lowly that it couldn't be much longer now, the road wasn't far from the clearing and they had to be stumbling upon it any minute not.

And they saw a light.

A flashlight, wavering in the near distance, exactly like their own beams and Stan paused. "Cartman?"

A low, pained moan sounded, and the light flickered before shining brightly again. It kept on wavering, as if the person holding it up wasn't strong enough to hold it steady. Kyle cursed harshly.

"That fucking fatass! That's what he gets..." He stomped toward the light, yelling out, "You stupid jackass, Cartman!"

"Wait, Kyle!" Stan darted forward but didn't watch where he was going, instead tripping over a fallen branch. Kenny rushed forward, pulling him up as the raven watched with panicked eyes as the redhead disappeared into the darkness.

"Kyle!"

And then a gunshot rang out.

"KYLE!" Stan screamed and threw off Kenny's helping arm, stumbling and running into the darkness, Kenny rushing right behind him. The blonde's thought's were wild. The psycho bastard didn't have a gun, he had a knife...right? How could he have gotten a gun?

Stan screamed as they came upon the fallen body, and he threw himself on his knees, grabbing frantically at Kyle's bloody jacket. The redhead was still alive, choking, coughing as fearful eyes looked down and his hands clutched at his bloody midsection. Blood came from a burned rip, a hole in his stomach.

"Kyle! Kyle, no!" Stan was nearly crying, and Kenny watched in shocked silence as Kyle grabbed at him, tears leaking from his horribly anxious eyes.

"Stan, please..." He sobbed thickly, pawing at Stan's jacket as blood burbled past his lips, flowing down his chin. His hat had fallen off; bright red hair looked dull in the moonlight as he lay there, crying in fear. "Not...don't go...him, it was him...don't..."

The raven froze, growling out in sudden anger as he seemed to take in fully what Kyle's gunshot wound seemed to say, and his head darted up to look at the shadowy trees, seeing the light flee into the woods.

"CARTMAAAAN!" His voice was a roar of rage, of murderous rage and Stan finally broke, rushing up from Kyle's body and taking off toward the light, screaming madly. "CARTMAN, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"No! No, Stan, wait, no, it w-wasn't him!" Kyle's coughing, terrified voice was too late, Stan was already gone, and the redhead cried out in shameless fear. "_Don't leave me, Stan_!"

He looked toward Kenny tearfully, a hand reaching out to him, crying, begging, pleading. Kenny swallowed nervously and took off toward Stan, and he heard Kyle's hopeless screaming, dropping off to a pitiful whimper. "_Staaaan_!"

He ran faster, and dove into the dark, hoping nothing would happen...there was another gunshot. He heard Kyle's echoing, pained cry from behind him. Kenny rounded a tree and he saw Stan's crumpled form, lifeless eyes glazed in the rays of the moon, a hole in his chest. And he saw the figure standing a few feet in front of him, holding Cartman's gun, hand blood-streaked and dirty. A familiar smile met his eyes.

"Hiya, Kenny."

Kenny fell back on his ass, shocked, heart thumping harshly in his chest as he stared up at a ghost. "What...?"

Butters came toward him slowly, stepping delicately over Stan's lifeless body. He was dirty, streaked with mud and shirtless, countless little scratches on his chest and arms, along with a nasty gash on his left bicep. But his bright blue eyes glinted softly, gently, and it was with a little smile on his face that he approached the fallen blonde, squatting down lightly in front of him, the gun pointed casually at his chest.

"Didja miss me, Kenny?"

"Butters...you're...you're dead..." Kenny closed his eyes, whispering. A cold touch to his cheek made him open his eyes, and he saw the gun stroking his flesh.

"Aw, Kenny, I'ah'm sorry, tha' was jus' a lie..." Butters poked himself, giggling. "I'ah'm alive, I'ah swear."

"B-but..." Kenny looked past him to Stan, motionless on the ground. "...why?"

Butters actually looked sad this time. "I'ah'm sorry, Kenny. It really wasn't sup'osed t'come t'this..." He sighed, siting down fully. The gun never wavered in it's target. "I'ah was so tired...so tired of everythin'...but nuthing was sup'osed to happen t'you or Kyle an' Stan. I'ah jus' wanted Eric." He wiggled the gun. "I'ah got 'im, all right."

"Token and Clyde?" Kenny challenged, angry. Butters glared at him, and Kenny suddenly saw that he had changed...he was different and he was much more dangerous now. The real Butters was gone.

"They didn't stick up for me or nuthin' when Eric told me th' truth." He spat angrily, fingers tightening on the trigger. "They were cowards, and Token hurt me." he fingered the gash on his arm.

"But, Butters..."

"But nuthin. They're dead now, an' they'll burn in Hell." Butters sighed, sad again. "But th' rest of you were safe...I'ah was gonna go leave and let th' rest of you go. Y'guys were nice t'me. But then y'saw my light...and I'ah heard Stan. I'ah knew y'guys were gonna come after me, thinkin' I'ah was Eric..." he shrugged. "I'ah had to make sure y'didn't tell."

Butters looked disappointed, and he reached out to curl a slender finger in Kenny's hair, sighing. "You sure were nice t'me, Kenny...if Eric hadn't said nuthin, I'ah think you coulda been my first friend. I'ah would've liked that. So I'ah'm real sorry t'do this." He smiled gently. "But you'll come back, so I'ah know you'll be fine. I'ah'll think about ya, Kenny. And I'ah'll remember you as th' first person who was nice t'me."

Cold metal tucked into the curve under his chin and Kenny stared helplessly at Butters' bright blue eyes, the smaller blonde still smiling peacefully.

"Oh, an' don't worry, I'ah'll get Stan over t' Kyle. Kyle shouldn't die alone, y'know? He's nice." He stroked Kenny's cheek. "Bye, Kenny."

Kenny didn't even register the sound of the gun firing.


	9. Chapter Eight: Dreaming Or Truth?

**Chapter Eight  
Dreaming Or Truth?**

_A loud knocking woke him up and Kenny groaned, trying to turn over in his spot. Shit man, leave him alone...like a damn car crash wasn't enough to warrant him some sleep? The urgent knocking came back again and Kenny moaned, sitting up. Butters was outside the window, blue around the lips as he shivered outside. Fuck, he'd forgotten the blonde had gone for a walk after all the shit from last night..._

_Kenny snapped to attention, fighting sleepiness and the last remnants of his drunk, stoned haze as he clumsily opened the back door, letting in the cold air of outside. Cartman gave a loud snort from the front, and Butters hurriedly clambered inside, shivering madly as his teeth chattered._

_"H-hamburgers, it's c-c-cold out there..."_

_Kenny grunted his agreement, yawning. His hands shut the door again, leaning over to get the job done, and Butters sat still, trying to let the warm air of inside heat him up. Kenny leaned back down and Butters, after glancing around for any other available spot and finding none, lay down next to him, squirming around for a more comfortable position in the cramped back._

_Kenny watched him for a while, voice low. "So, how was your walk?"_

_Butters snorted sardonically, eyes downcast. "Cold, tha's what."_

_The larger male felt a sad wave of emotion wash over him, clearing his thoughts a little bit, and he sat up, reaching over to pat the smaller blonde's shoulder, sending him a small smile. "Well, you don't haveta listen to any bullshit from other people. So what if your parents paid fatass? You're gonna have fun on this trip, no matter what anyone says. We'll get help over here and go to that cabin, and party our asses off. I'll make sure of it."_

_Butters laughed lowly. "You're sure bein' optimistic. What, you plannin' t'be my friend or somethin'?"_

_"Well, why not?" Kenny grinned at Butters scandalized expression. "Come on, I'm not that bad, am I? You're pretty cool, Butters, and I think I'd like being your friend."_

_"Now tha's jus' the drugs talkin'..."_

_Kenny scoffed, punching him lightly in the shoulder. A sleepy moan came from Clyde and they both fell silent, then Kenny looked down at Butters, a steady look in his face. He didn't feel too high anymore. And that was a good thing for right now._

_"Butters...you really are cool. I talked to you, stuck up for you...you think I'd do that if I didn't like you? Come on, I ain't that fucking nice. Whores aren't nice people, y'know."_

_The smaller boy looked up almost defiantly. "Well, you're not _that_ much of a whore..."_

_"Seriously, Butters."_

_Butters was silent. "Y'really want t'be my friend?"_

_"Shit, of course." Kenny swung an arm around him, drawing him close. "Swear it."_

_"Fine. But only if you're serious."_

_Kenny laughed lowly. "When am I not serious?"_

_Butters only snorted, and he leaned in a little closer as Kenny kept his arm around his shoulders, and Kenny thought that he really did like the idea of being Butters' friend..._

_He really did._

He woke up in choking black and Kenny screamed, fighting frantically, feeling some kind of stretching barrier stop him from the light and he screamed again, trying to escape.

What was this, let him out, no, let him go, let him out, let him _out!_

Startled voices sounded and came closer, and suddenly there was an unzipping noise and Kenny lunged up, shrieking. He panted furiously, wide eyes darting around everywhere in the bright light. Strange people in uniform surrounded him as they stared in shock, and Kenny became aware of a bright light, red and white, spinning and bouncing off of everything. An ambulance. He looked around. It was daytime again. The people were cops and paramedics.

He started to cry. It was too late, too fucking late...

"Kenny!"

The high shriek caught his attention and he turned to see Tweek rushing up to him, Craig following closely behind. The blonde was crying, fat tears dripping off from long eyelashes and even Craig had a sick, haunted, pale look on his face.

Tweek lunged at him, hugging him around the middle and clutching fearfully at his bloody jacket. "They're a-all...T-Token, Clyde, Stan and -_ngh-_ K-Kyle...all...all _d-d—_" He couldn't go on, degrading into sobbing broken tears, crying pathetically.

Craig fisted his hand in Kenny's collar, voice hoarse and shattered. "What happened, Kenny? What the _fuck _happened?"

Kenny stared at him, unable to force a single word from his lips and suddenly he broke, he started to sob and then he couldn't move; the three of them held each other in agonized horror, and Kenny was still crying as they took him away from Craig and Tweek for questioning.

* * *

The man stared at Kenny as he finished speaking, voice finally falling silent in that cold, empty room.

"And that's how it happened?"

"...yeah." Kenny agreed lowly, head hanging down. His hair hid his eyes and the man started at him for a while, reading his dejected body language. Then he sighed, closing his file.

"Alright, Kenny. Give your statement on paper and you can go."

Kenny looked up. "What?"

The man stood, giving him a hooded look. You could barely see the sharp light of cunning in eyes that seemed only bored. He wore his disguise well. "Your twenty-four hours are up, you can go now. We'll contact you if we need another statement."

The blonde stared at him then looked down, sighing pitifully. "Okay."

In twenty minutes Kenny was walking out of the police building. Anybody who saw him could tell he was in the throes of agony, and he looked as if tears would spill over his eyes at any second. He looked up as he walked, and thought of Butters. He should still be waiting.

Kenny laughed.

**THE END**


	10. Afterword

**Hey guys. Just a little afterword from your faithful author. In making this story, I had to do many, many things.**

**Not only did I have to actually have to write about things I've never done before, but it required a certain state of mind to write this up. It was one thing to write about shotgunning and vodka, about car crashes and hurtful truths. I have enough friends to give me a good example of how these things work. But cold-hearted murder is another thing. In previous stories, it was always for a reason, whether to further along the plot of a story (TDTF) or to resolve a conflict (Tension). But Bloodbath is in a class all of it's own. The murder was the only integral plot of the story, and really, that's mainly the only thing that happened in this story.**

**It was hard. I've just finished writing Tension and it was hard to get back into the mindset needed for this. Personally, I have a fear of blood, needles, knives, really anything that could cause pain. I'm scared of bleeding a lot, because it makes me think I'm that much closer to death. And not only did I have to write about this, but I had to feel it too. It seems to follow your cliché horror-movie plotline, but really, there's more to this than meets the eye.**

**The ending might have thrown you off. It threw my editor off and she loved it. It meant that the entire story could have possibly been the falsity of a cold-blooded murderer, or just the insane ramblings of someone who's seen his friends murdered before his very eyes. Did Butters actually come back the first time? Did he really do it? Was Kenny involved? What actually happened and what'll happen next? These are questions I left for you to answer yourself, as you see fit, and I'd like to think I left enough ambiguity about it that you can fill in the blanks to your satisfaction.**

**But know that I tried very hard to bring you to the edge and hang you off, to throw you off balance and make you shriek in horror and amazement through every turn. There was a lot of effort in putting their scenarios just right, and I hope you can catch the very specific ways they all died, even if it might have been all lies told from Kenny's point of view.**

**Clyde was first, and he died crying, unable to meet his goal of being a 'man', whatever that meant for him. Token was next, and he left for revenge and failed. All his money and power was useless and in the end, he couldn't even bring comfort to himself by killing his best friend's murderer. Cartman thought he was powerful enough to stand alone and save himself, and he lost. He was stabbed from behind and powerless to prevent his own death. Kyle was left alone, abandoned by both his friend and best friend in the entire world, and Stan was killed instantly, the only one who didn't know who the killer was. Everyone saw him but Stan, and he was left unknowing, and thus less than everyone else.**

**But what really happened? People will ask me what truly happened and I'll tell you this now: I can't tell you, otherwise it'll bias what you think happened. Should I write a story about what really happened? Maybe I should. But that's not going to happen anytime soon.**

**So, glad you stuck around, and hope you enjoyed my story. Thanks to my readers for all their lovely reviews and faves, and I'll see you around next time.**

**P.S. Craig Tucker actually guessed the correct song that I was inspired by, which was 'Lake Pontchartrain' by Ludo, so yay to you! Sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner, but I want to reward you somehow, by really anything. Any ideas? PM me please!**


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